BJ 1857 
■ C5 P7 
187S 

Copy 1 



LIBRARY OF CONGRESS, 

ZTnrf-. 

(/': .\i Co}ti|riP,!|t T)o. -. 

She]f t ^5.P7 
12-73- 

UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 




# 

f 

I 



BEHAVING; 



OR, 



PAPERS ON CHILDREN'S ETIQUETTE. 

* 



BY / . 

MRS. S. D. POWER, 

(SHIRLEY DARE) 
AUTHOR OF "UGLY GIRL PAPERS." 



t7 ® 



9~ 



- >, v 1879. cM 



.BOSTON : 
D. LOTHROP AND COMPANY, 

FRANKLIN ST., CORNER OF HAWLEY. 



rj9 

I 




Copyright by 
D. LOTHROP & CO. 
1877. 



CONTENTS. 

Page 

i. 

TOWARD MOTHER'S COMPANY . . ... 7 

II. 

GREETINGS AND NICKNAMES . . . -19 

III. 

TO STAND, TO WALK, AND TO SIT . . . 27 

IV. 

MANNERS AT HOME . . . . . • 37 

V. 

PARTY ETIQUETTE 53 

VI. 

PARTY ETIQUETTE — FOR THE GUESTS . . 6 1 



VI CONTENT'S. 

VII. 

LITTLE GENTLEFOLKS 

VIII. 

MISS charity's lady 

IX. 

AUNT CHARITY'S LADY, AGAIN . 

X. 

WITH YOUNGER CHILDREN 

XL 

MANNERS AWAY FROM HOME . 



7 



86 



97 



120 



130 




BEHAVING; 

OR, 

PAPERS ON CHILDREN'S ETIQUETTE. 



I. 

TOWARD -MOTHER'S COMPANY. 

"\ \ THAT, Adelaide, out here in the entry alone, in 
V V a fidget between the stair-foot and the door ? 
One would think it was a cat turned into a girl by 
her motions ! Taking a step toward the parlor, then 
turning, wriggling your shoulders, and half crying, 
I believe ! Girls have a habit • of going into mild 
spasms for nothing. What straw lies crossway now ? 

There's company with your mother, and you're 
"dying" to see who it island you can't tell whether 
it will do to go in or not ? You do so dread seeing 
strangers, and yet there may be some one you are 
fond of, and wouldn't miss seeing for anything, and 

7 



Behaving, or 



you're afraid she will be gone before you can make up 
your mind what to do ? You do seem to be " dying." 
or in danger of going into small pieces. But, then, 
girls like strong words just as they like pickles, and 
cinnamon, and citron, and all sorts of unwholesome 
things — tastes that you will drop as soon as you begin 
to half know anything. As to your going into the 
parlor, take it coolly, and think out the right way and 
the wrong way there is of doing this, as well as every- 
thing else, no matter how small. It isn't strange that 
a little girl of eleven shouldn't know just what to do 
in every case. Your grandmother, sometimes, has 
occasion to consider, old as she is. 

Does your mamma allow you to come into her par- 
lor when she is with callers without sending for you ? 
If she has never told you anything about the matter, 
there is a clause in the constitution of our country 
which provides that everything not forbidden is sup- 
posed to be allowed, and there is no harm in going 
in to find out if you are wanted. Open the door, and 
if your mamma wants you, she will say, "Come in;" 
if not, she will look at you pleasantly, but not invite 
you. You make a little bow, and go out quickly and 
quietly. O. mamma always allows you to come where 
she is ? All right. But think a minute. How long 
has the visitor been with your mother ? It is likelv 



Papers on Children 9 s Etiquette. 9 



Ithey want a few minutes to themselves, not because 
they have anything to say that you needn't* hear, but 
Wo people can pay better attention to each other 
then alone than if a third person comes in. The 
lldy has been here twenty minutes. Then go in. 

put you don't quite know what is expected of you — 
wither you ought to just bow, or go up and offer 
yar hand to the visitor, and say, " How do you 
do!" Or should you only say, " Good morning," or 
" God day ? " 

i)w, listen, and get what I tell you fixed in your 
mirl j because, when you once know what to do in 
comany, all this flutter and nervousness goes off. 
Littl girls are often the most uneasy, uncomfortable 
creates in the world to do with, because they are 
alwaj thinking of themselves, and not sure what is 
gentel and fidgeting, and getting cross to hide their 
nervoUess. 

Wh\ is the first thing you have to do now ? Why, 
to walljnto the room ; and, let me tell you, this isn't 
a thinghnerely to laugh over. The way in which 
people yter a room shows whether they have good 
training,^ plainly as anything else in manners. Open 
the clooryide enough to walk squarely in, without 
squeezingpr edging through, as if you didn't think 
enough oW urself to give your body room to go 



IO 



Behaving, or 



through without crowding. Don't rush in, or cree? 
in, but hold yourself straight, and look directly at tte 
people in the room. Don't hesitate \ but if you dort 
know the visitor, go to your mother, and stand by fe* 
side, till she says, " Mrs. So-and-so, this is my daugh- 
ter Adelaide." Then move a step forward, and bw, 
or courtesy, if you have been taught to do so \ forthe 
courtesy is coming into use again with nice peple, 
and it is a very graceful salute, when properly one. 
You are not to hold out your hand, unless thelady 
offers to shake hands with you; then it is your;>lace 
to walk up to her, and give her your hand and 
when she says, " How do you do ? " answer, Very 
well, I thank you," or " Not very well," as tb case 
may be. Say it pleasantly, and quietly ; but ou are 
not to say anything more to the lady, unless se talks 
to you. She may have so much to say to ycr mam- 
ma, that she will only be civil to you. Reiember, 
she is to hold out her hand to shake, an to say, 
" How do you do ? " first. She is older tha you, and 
the elder person has the right to make theidvances, 
as we call it — to shake hands or not, or 1 speak or 
not, as she chooses. If your mamma wer^ntroduced 
to a lady older than herself, or more t>ught of in 
society, your mother would not shake ands unless 
the lady offered to, nor would she Igin talking, 



Papers on Children 's Etiquette. 



n 



unless the lady showed that she wished it by saying 
something first herself. 

I wish you could see Clara Crane as she used to 
be, and you would know how disagreeable a girl can 
make herself by carelessness - in these things. Her 
mamma introduced her to me, when she was a tall, 
long-legged slip of a girl, eight years old. Miss For- 
ward came up, and poked out her hand. * " How do 
you do, Miss Dudley ? " she began in that loud, un- 
comfortable voice of hers, which no one could teach 
her to lower or soften. " I've been wanting to know 
you ever so long, mamma has spoken so much of you. 
Do you like Staten Island as a residence ? Is your 
health very good ? " All that would sound nicely 
enough from her mother, or some grown woman ; but 
the young lady was quite overcoming with her con- 
descensions. Your place among older people is to be 
quiet. What they have to say to each other is much 
more interesting than your talk can be till you have 
learned a good deal more than you know now. 

When people talk to you, don't always say, " Yes, 
*■ • * 
ma'am," and " No, ma'am," for answer, or to begin 

your answer. It is the easiest thing you can think of 

to say, but we want a little variety in conversation. 

You don't know how hard it is to talk to a little girl 

like this : — 



12 



Behaving, or 



" Well, Addie, are you glad spring is here? " 
" O, j*es, ma'am." 

" And are you glad school is out ? " 
" Yes, ma'am, I am." 

"You don't like being shut up so many hours — 
do you ? " 

" No, ma'am." 

Couldn't you say, " I'm glad spring has come, so 
I can work in my garden " ? That would give us 
something to talk about at once, and you would have 
something to tell me that was very interesting, per- 
haps, before we were through \ for I could get you to 
tell me about your flowers, and what you do there, 
and which you like best. You needn't talk to show 
off. Very, very few grown people have anything to 
say worth showing off; but we can any of us say 
something to please or interest those we talk to. If 
we can't, my dear, we have no business among other 
people. If they have to do the polite and the agreea- 
ble, and we can't be a very little polite and nice in 
return, you can't think what nuisances among folks 
we certainly are. 

If somebody does tell you anything interesting, I 
really think you know enough not to be a little bore, 
asking too many questions, or asking them all at once. 
This is a piece of bad manners, that belongs more to 



Papers o?i Children's Etiquette. 13 

boys. I was once trying to amuse the two children 
of some literary people, very bright, well-educated 
young folks, too, only their, education went a long way 
beyond their manners, which is a pity for any one. I 
happened to say I had seen Indians on their own 
prairies, when the boy flew at me with his questions, 
his eyes fierce, his hands clinched with eagerness. 
" Real Indians ? Cherokee or Sioux ? Were they red 
or copper-colored ? What nations ? Did they ride 
horses in a circle ? Did they use stone arrow-heads ? 
Did they use wampum like the Eastern tribes ? Were 
they tall as white men ? " He acted just like a huge 
cat that meant to tear the knowledge out of me. 
Now, his questions showed he had read and thought 
about Indians in a way that was very clever for a boy ; 
but his manner showed that he was both selfish and 
harsh. 

Is this too much to remember ? I dare say you 
will forget it in less time than I have been telling 
you, if you only think of it as something to be done 
for appearance' sake, just as you wear a heavy dress, 
or gloves too tight, because they look pretty. But 
when you think this is all for kindness' sake, because 
we ought not to slight or disturb other people any 
more than we want them to annoy us, you have the 
Key of Behaving, and your way opens easily. You 



14 



Behavi?ig, or 



will have to think what you are to do and say, because 
nothing nice -was ever done without care. But the 
care grows easy in a few weeks, so that one can be • 
polite — that is to say, kind, with as little effort as it 
takes to run four scales in music. Only you must be 
the same to everybody, everywhere, to get in the habit. 
It won't do to be very nice to your teacher when she 
comes to see you, or to your handsome rich neigh- 
bor, whom you admire because she has such pretty 
dresses, or to the new girl who has just come into 
your set, and everybody likes wonderfully, unless you 
are just as pleasant to the least popular girls, and 
to the tiresome neighbor who is poor, and shabby, 
and dull. 

School girls are fond of showing uninteresting peo- 
ple a very cold shoulder of civility. I have seen a 
well-dressed girl of thirteen treat her mother's visitor 
to a pert, " How d'ye do, Mrs. Clay ? " with a turned-up 
•nose, and general air of disdain, while she flounced 
round the room, looking for something or nothing, 
in a way that said plainer than words, "I don't % 
see what people in rusty gowns have to live in this 
world for ! " and go out with a significant, " I want 
to see you as soon as I can have you to myself, 
mamma." 

She had a very sensible mother, who merely said, 



Papers on Children's Etiquette, % 15 



"We will dispense .with your company a while, Ger- 
trude," and paid the poor visitor *so much pleasant 
attention as to make her forget the rude girl's 
affront. 

* Miss Gertrude came down when she was gone, 
' eager for a chat ; but the mother was iced dignity, 

and answered only in the stiffest, shortest way. She 
gave the girl a very small saucer of berries for tea, 
forgot entirely to take her to ride, and settled herself 
with a magazine to read, instead of being sociable 
for the evening; in short, snubbed her daughter as 
thoroughly as Miss Gertrude was fond of snubbing 
people who didn't happen to please her. 

" Mamma," she said at last, with tears in her eyes, 
— for you young ones, who are so hard and cruel to 
others, are very tender of your own feelings, — " what 
does make you treat me so ? " 

Mamma took her time to finish the paragraph that 
interested her, and said, in a freezing way, " It's be- 
cause I don't like your style." 

Gertrude colored furiously ; for, like most girls, 

# she prided herself on being what English people call 
"very good form;" that is* her manner and dress 
after a nice model. Her mamma went on deliber- 
ately, — 

" My favorites are all people who would not, if they 



i6 



Behaving^ or 



knew it, hurt the feelings of a washerwoman by any 
slight, or hint that they wished her away \ and I do 
dislike the company of half-bred people whose man- 
ners are always wearing to rags, and letting ill nature 
and rudeness peep through." 

" Why, mamma ! To treat your own daughter so, 
because I can't endure that Mrs. Clay, who always 
wears such dowdy bonnets, and makes her own 
dresses, so they never look nice, and who is always 
so particular to tell what bad nights she has, and 
says, ' Gertrude's growing quite a girl ! 1 as if I was 
wearing short cloaks and baby sashes ! " This came 
out with a perfect burst of indignation. 

" It is very disagreeable to find one's own daughter 
such a badly-bred child," said that terrible mother, 
calmly. " If Mrs. Clay does wear cotton velvet trim- 
ming on her dress, and talk in a homely way, she 
knows how to be kind to others, and how to treat 
them, which is more than all your advantages have 
been able to teach you. I wish you to understand 
that every shabby, ill-looking creature in the world 
has just as good a right and cause for attention as 
you with your style, as you are pleased to call it. 
And if you doia't know that everybody is your equal 
in right to civility, you haven't learned enough to 
allow you to appear abroad, and I shall leave you at 



Papers on Children 's Etiquette. 



*7 



home, and not admit you to company till you can 
cany yourself better." 

It was a severe lesson ; but it vastly improved 
Gertrude, who, from an intolerably pert creature, be- 
came a pleasant sort of companion when she learned 
not to look people over from head to foot to see if 
they were worth her civility. 

I hope you know enough already not to grow 
fidgety if your mother and the visitor talk to each 
other instead of to you. Don't break into the conver- 
sation with something of your own that has nothing to 
do with what they are saying. I've known a girl to 
stroll about the room if she was not noticed, and in- 
terrupt the talk with anything that came into her head. 
" O, mamma, who has made this long scratch on the 
piano ? I know James has been in here." Next it 
was, " Do you know Mrs. Gray's baby has two front 
teeth — real cunning ones ; " and a few minutes after, 
when we were very happily talking of old friends, Miss 
Uneasy called out across the room, " Mamma, the 
folks that live opposite are going out to ride ! " as if 
anybody cared. She made us forget what we wanted 
to say, and interrupted so often that I had to go away 
in self-defence, before that vexatious child worried her 
mother out of temper. The trouble is, you can't get 
one of these pests to leave the room on any pretence, 



1 8 Behaving, or Papers on Children 9 s Etiquette. 

unless they are ordered out, and then there is pouting, 
or a real storm. 

A nice child is the pleasantest company in the 
world \ but as for one that isn't nice, I'd rather have 
a thieving, pinching monkey by way of comfort. 



II. 



GREETINGS AND NICKNAMES. 

THE other Sunday, before going into church, I 
stopped to let my dress down cut of the dust, 
and. was by chance witness of the choice manners 
found where they should not be to-day. Two well- 
dresSed girls of thirteen came in, whom I know be- 
longed to the best families in the Society, and met on 
their way to the gallery, where our young folks like 
to have the full benefit of the organ and view of the 
congregation. These girls were pretty and nice in 
appearance, from the trim French boots to the checked 
silk and pale chip hats they wore, which matched, in 
blue, ruffles, and trimming. They carried themselves 
well, which means that they walked straight and 
easily, without being so shy that they seemed made 
of wood, or holding their heads so high as to look 
haughty. But as the elder, put her dainty foot on the 

19 



20 



Behaving, or 



stairs, the greeting that passed between them was, 
" Hallo, Sid ! " from her, and "Hallo, Tude ! " from her 
friend. It'was just what two lounging young men 
might have said, or two stable-boys, for that matter. 
It would not have been out of the way for them, but" 
it sounded odd from a pair of well-bred girls. There 
was nothing else coarse or fast in their manner; but 
they used unconsciously the words they heard from 
the rest of their mates. It sounded as it does to hear 
a beautiful gray and rose-colored bird begin to swear 
with a croak in his throat. Or it was as little in 
keeping as if one had found an end of soiled tape 
hanging outside of their delicate dresses. It is com- 
mon enough to hear girls say " Hallo " at meeting, 
but one can't like it, nor get used to it. 

It's a trifle, but you might as well leave off going to 
school and learning manners at once, if you despise 
trifles. They make all the difference between nice 
things and common ones. You ought to know better, 
and you do know enough to prefer sweet, lively, gen- 
tle people to those who are rough and careless. Girls 
fall into the free and easy vrays of their brothers be- 
cause they are easy; and one habit leads to another, 
till it is no longer sweet and quiet company we find 
in them, but the rapid ways and short speech of young 
gentlemen in flounces. The ways of boys are pleasant 



Papers on Children's Etiquette. 



21 



enough in their place \ but there was meant to be a 
difference between them and girte, for the sake of 
giving us a variety, I suppose. And if girls try to be 
like boys, where will we get our sweethearts, please ? 
You can't sweeten with allspice and cloves. 

Of course, when you meet a friend you see every 
day, you don't want to say, " How do you do ? " 
as formal as to a person you see less often; but 
wouldn't it sound just as pleasant to pass with a 
" Well, Sidney," and "Well, Gertie," as to " Hallo " 
like teamsters ? If you want to be a little more pre- 
cise, Good Morning always has a kindly sound when 
you think that it means one is wishing good to you 
that day. It is a little prayer of good-will for every- 
body we say it to, and each one needs it in this trying 
world. We don't need to ask people whom we see 
often, "How do you do?" because we know pretty 
well without asking ; but when friends have been 
away from us a while, it sounds indifferent to throw 
them a good morning without caring to ask if they are 
better or worse in feelings or body since they left us. 
How do you do, doesn't mean to ask merely if one is 
sick or in health ; but it wishes to know if all is well 
with him. All the forms of politeness have the friend- 
liest meaning ; and if we can only feel all that they ex- 
press, we shall find ourselves the politest people in 
the world without any more trouble. 



22 



Behaving, or 



While you are thinking of these things, pray make 
up your mind to drop the stupid nicknames that girls 
seem to. delight in. I say stupid ones; but you are 
not to think, as some good people do, that all nick- 
names are senseless. Whenever we are familiar with 
any one, it is an instinct to soften and shorten their 
names, and nicknames often express some peculiarity 
of a person with a good deal of pith. Trudie is a 
softer name than Gertrude, Gertie is a shorter one ; 
and somehow it is nature among all the nations in 
the world to turn a friend's name, shorten it, and pet 
it, to make a special name of it for those who love 
him. Pet names and nicknames are pleasant be- 
cause they belong only to one's family and intimates. 
But there are some names so harsh and uncouth, with- 
out any meaning or fun, that there is no excuse for 
using them. I know girls whose favorite nickname 
for Gertrude is "Toot," or "Tute," as you like to 
spell it. Besides making one think of a fish-horn, it 
isn't in the least like the name it is taken for, any 
more than Caddie, or Cad, is like Caroline, or Wede 
is like Louisa ; for which I've had the unhappiness of 
hearing it used. The worst and most sickishly silly 
of all is Mamie for Mary, in any but a very little girl 
who cannot speak plain. Are names any sweeter for^ 
being spoken as toothless babies might mumble them 



Papers on Child?' en's Etiquette. 



23 



in trying to talk ? Don't make dumplings out of your 
friends' names, or gnaw them out of all shape. Boys 
have their whims that are past endurance. Geordie 
always sounds like a babyish nickname for that manly 
name George. To hear a boy called Docle, when his 
real name is Theodore, gives most people a disposi- 
tion to think little~ofTrle speaker and of the boy too. 
In the country, I believe, it is the height of manliness 
for a boy who goes to district school to be called 
Hank, if his name happens to be Henry — for what 
reason I cannot tell, unless because it is the least like 
it of any name in the spelling-book. You must have 
the least grain of sense in your foolishness to make it 
fun, just as we have to put a pinch of salt into ice- 
cream to make it taste right. 

There are other nicknames, not pleasant to hear 
from older persons, but which we must allow to boys 
and girls — who appear, if they are not allowed small 
follies while young, to make up for it by large ones 
hereafter. When aie the professors in our town ever 
called anything but " Prof " by the young folks, while 
the boys of the preparatory school would feel as if 
one was chaffing them if they were called anything 
more than " Preps." The church on the hill goes by 
the name of the " First Cong," with never another 
syllable. There is not the shadow of disrespect in 



2 4 



Behaving) or 



this ; it is only a boy's natural dislike to long pedantic 
names ; and I fancy most people would be sorry to 
have all these whimsical ways of speaking dropped. 
They make a variety. But there is a fault in so fall- 
ing into the habit of using slang as never to speak 
without it. One might as well talk pigeon-English 
that the Chinese use, as to learn the slang dialect so 
thoroughly as to forget decent language. It will keep 
you from this to have one little rule about the matter — 
never to use slang in talking to older people. There 
are plenty of stories for children nowadays, in which 
the boys and girls speak the vilest slang, from be- 
ginning to end, to their fathers, and mothers, and 
teachers. They cannot speak like well-bred, cared- 
for children, used to neat, sweet expressions about 
them ; but they borrow the talk of corner groceries, 
stables, and saloons, till one wonders if these young 
folks were actually brought up on the street. They 
say, "cheese it," or " that's the cheese," like a gro- 
cer's boy; and talk about the "cops," and "plug- 
uglies," say "nary red," and "going on the straight," 
like the low roughs who hang about the ill-smelling 
resorts of the town. These expressions are used so 
much by this class of persons that to hear them brings 
up the idea of the miserable places they come from. 
One actually seems to smell unsavory cheese and 



Papers on Childrerts Etiquette. 25 

beer-spillings at the sound of such words. And it 
always seems as if a boy's boots smelt of the stable 
when he uses such talk. There are several sorts of 
slang, and some of it is thieves' slang, and corner 
slang, which suggests nothing but what is vile and 
mean. Please to let that alone. As to the bettei 
sort of slang, be very careful not to get so much in 
the habit of using it that you can't do without it. 
When you can't describe a boy running down hill 
without saying he went "lickety split," or "lickety 
brindle," or if you must always say "cut and run" 
when } T ou mean merely to run, you had better engage 
somebody to correct you every time you speak, for 
two or three weeks, till you can use decent English 
when you wish to. You get the taste of your slang — 
that is, the fun of it — most by not using it often. 

Your teachers have probably talked to you enough 
against using fine words for simple meanings, like 
saying splendid for pretty or good, and awful or ter- 
rible for what is ugly or bad. You must learn to 
choose words that mean just what you mean,, no more 
and no less. When I hear girls saying anything is 
splendid, I don't feel like getting out of my chair to 
'"go and see it, for they use the word on every slight 
occasion. But a splendid thing ought to be something 
that the world would be glad to see — fine and rich 



26 Behaving, or Papers 07i Children } s Etiquette. 



together. It isn't the word to describe caramel, or 
the ruffles on a debege dress, or a picnic in a grove, 
or a visit to town, for any or all of which things young 
people use it. Why do you take out your best words 
for such common occasions ? It is like ^paying out 
quarters for three-cent stamps ; and everybody would 
think you a fool for doing that. As for such words as 
"gent"' and "pants," you probably know that there 
are two good reasons for letting them forever alone. 
The first is, that there are really no such words ; but 
they have been cut off of the longer ones — gentleman 
and pantaloons. The second is, that these short words 
are used by vulgar people almost entirely. Now, to 
be vulgar in manners is like being unclean in the face, 
and having one's clothes torn, or displeasing in any 
other way. You are just as unpleasant with your coarse 
ways of speaking as the dirtiest, raggedest newsboy in 
the street is in his appearance. As for these shabby 
and low-born words, we will have none of them. 



III. 



TO STAND, TO WALK, AND TO SIT. 

| ^VON'T you feel very tired of being told to " sit 
J — ' up " and " stand straight " ? I used to, when a 
child, and could never see the use of it, so I'm afraid 
the sitting and standing were not well attended to. 
But every day somebody comes before one, whose 
walk and way of holding themselves are so bad that 
they are a very good lesson as to the worth of doing 
these things well. 

At theatre, the other night, Mr. Edwin Booth was 
playing Richelieu, a play which, by the way is consid- 
ered one of the finest ever put upon the stage. A 
handsome young actor had the part of Adrien De 
Mauprat, a gallant, brave young soldier and gentleman 
of France, and very well he spoke some of the lines ; 
but he spoiled the effect of his frank air and speaking 
face by standing with his knees bent, and looking 
round the stage. I found that nearly all the actors 

• 27 



28 



Behaving, or 



stood in the same weak-kneed fashion. Only Mr. 
Booth, the principal, and one • other ambitious actor 
had any idea how to stand at all. Since then, think- 
ing over the matter, it seems that very few people 
stand or walk well, and the reason is they never 
thought anything about either. The college boys go by, 
looking like the flat, jointed pasteboard dolls amy, 
their shoulders and elbows up one side, down the 
other, and one hip sticking up to match. They have 
very fine figures for lying at full length under an apple- 
tree, or stretched on a sofa, but when they stand, sit, 
or walk, their joints sag. Sometimes this is the effect 
of growing fast, which takes all one's strength • but 
that excuse won't do for most boys. They copy the 
attitudes of loafers without knowing it. It is so easy 
to be a loafer. It takes as little talent to be a first- 
rate one, as it does to tell lies. The stout, pudgy boys 
who stand about the streets with hands in their pock- 
ets, shoulders up to their ears, and slack knees, as if 
they sat on the edge of nothing at all, make stout, 
pudgy men who could knock a blacksmith over, but 
who always " settle " if they stand alone. It is pure 
carelessness or ignorance with many boys that leads 
to these ill habits, and they deserve a special talking 
to about the matter. 

Every boy and girl should stand so as to have a good 



Papers on Children 's Etiquette. 



29 



balance, that no one brushing past can disturb them, 
and that standing will tire them less. To this end 
turn out your feet as far as you can, one foot an inch 
or two farther forward than the other, resting the 
weight on the ball of the foot as well as the heel, and 
keeping the knees stiff. Brace them as if trying to 
bend the joint backward, and keep them so. You 
will feel as if you had hold of your knees, and in this 
way you can stand in a swaying horse-car, or railway 
car, or on ship, with three times the steadiness of the 
common, loose-jointed way. Hold your head up, and 
hollow your back in all you can without allowing 
yourself to poke out in front. Feel as if you were 
going to fall all to pieces ? That is because you are 
not as strong as you ought to be. You sit in-doors 
reading or studying when you ought to be out in the 
sunshine at play or work. It is not hard for thor- 
oughly well persons to hold themselves straight. It is 
the only natural thing to them. If you w r ould bathe 
your joints in cool water before you go to bed tired, 
and try the same refreshing when you wake in the 
morning warm and languid, you would find it helped 
you to feel brisk, and hold yourself well all day. If 
you do this after a long, tiresome walk or hard play, 
it will keep you from feeling stiff and aching the next 
morning. It will be hard work to keep straight at 



3° 



Behaving, or 



first. But if you once take pride in an erect, decided 
way of carrying yourself, it will come easy always 
after. To help yourself to it, stand flat against the 
door, so that your shoulder-blades don't press against 
it, which you can't do without holding your shoulders 
well back. When you sit, choose straight-backed 
chairs, and take care that your shoulder-blades don't 
rest against them. Keep them flat, so that you won't 
grow up with these paddle-bones sticking out under 
your coat or dress. 

When you walk, arch your back the other way from 
what the cat does. You will find this easier to think 
of and do than the oft-repeated command, "throw 
your shoulders back," and it is the same thing, done 
by another set of muscles than those you naturally try 
to use on hearing those words. Hold your chest for- 
* ward, as this gives more room for breath, as you would 
find in running. Put the toe down first at each step, 
and bend your knee well back,- as the whole foot 
touches the ground. This will give you a firm step, 
one of the great beauties of motion. Look at all good 
walkers, as they go swinging across country or pave- 
ments, with firm, lithe step. You see these two things 
in each of them, they put the toe to the ground first, 
and straighten the knee at each step. Look at the 
cat, which is a very graceful walker. See how she sets 



Papers on Children 's Etiquette. 



3i 



her paw down, and the little spring in her leg moves 
till it is straight. Nothing weak-kneed there, or in any 
animal that can walk far or fast, run, climb or fight. 
As for you, little girls, if you knew what grace there is 
in one of your slim, supple figures, or what pleasing 
there is in a round, stout one 'if held straight and car- 
ried well, with a good step, you would spring out of 
your languid, fine-lady attitudes, and unlearn the 
goose-walk three-fourths the women practice from the 
time they are eight years old. I often watch the feet 
of women on Broadway, instead of their faces. It is 
often painful, but it is curious that so many of them 
walk badly and all do it alike. They lift their toes 
and set their feet down so that the sole cf the foot 
shows at every step, broad as a duck's bill, and they 
have in result the walk of a green drake or something 
not much better. You were not made to come down 
on your heels at every step, and the soles cf your 
shoes were not made to show. Break yourselves of 
these bad habits, so that the next generation will have 
such grace and ease of movement that it will be a 
pleasure to look at them. 

It seems very tedious to learn these things, does it ? 
and you can't quite see how you are ever going to get 
the idea of a good carriage in your heads ? You must 
practice, every day, for fifteen minutes or so, how to 



32 



Behaving^ or 



walk, just as recruits do. Turn your tees out, flatten 
your shoulders against the wall to start from, fix your 
eyes on a point opposite you, and a little higher than 
your head, so you will look up and carry your head 
well, brace your knees. Now slowly lift your foot, put 
down the toe, straighten your knee and bring your 
foot down. So the next foot, walking on one line of 
the carpet or crack in the floor. Mind about look- 
ing up, and straightening the knees, for these two 
things will bring all the rest right. You will have to 
take time to learn, but you will get the idea best by 
practicing very slowly and steadily fifteen .minutes 
daily. When you go to walk alone, down to the post- 
office or to carry a basket to the neighbors, think 
about your steps a little. Don't try to make a hole in 
the ground with your heels, or let them fly up behind. 
Six weeks' practice ought to improve your walk very 
much, and after that you would grow so used to it as 
to walk well without thinking about it. If you have 
a long mirror to practice before, so much the better. 
If this makes 3 r ou vain I shall have a very poor opin- 
ion of you. Or if thinking about your walk makes 
you think a great deal of yourself, I'm afraid there is 
something that needs correcting more than your man- 
ner, something weak in the head if not worse in the 
heart. Pray, why should you be any more vain of 



Papers on Children 's Etiquette. 



33 



having a good walk than of having a clean face ? One 
is just as much credit, or rather the want of it is as 
much discredit as the other. Yet you hardly get 
puffed up because you are clean. Take all the im- 
provement that comes to you, in the same way, as 
something you should not be without, but too much a 
matter of course to be proud of. "For the least pride 
or vanity showing in a child is more offensive by far 
than a soiled face or ungainly walk. 

There is one trouble you find that besets older peo- 
ple, also. What shall you do with your hands ? Trou- 
sers' pockets are not the place for them in company, 
and little girls have no pockets for them. I forgot, 
but does it look well to see a girl always carrying her 
hands in the pockets of her apron or jacket? It will 
do once in a while, among one's mates, but it is rather 
free and easy for a regular habit. You don't want al- 
ways to fold them like a cat crossing her paws. Let 
me tell you something that will help in this puzzle 
which troubles much better-bred persons than you can 
be yet. I've heard well-trained ladies, brought up very 
carefully in good society, say, " I can't walk without a 
parasol or book. I must have something to do with* 
my hands." 

One could not help feeling sorry they had not 
learned how to carry every part of themselves easily 



34 



Behaviiig, or 



and gracefully, without thinking about the matter. If 
they would try a very simple thing, bringing the 
Jiands together in front, below the waist, at arm's 
length, just as they sat down or started on a walk, and 
then let them fall apart as they would, and keep them 
as they fall, the position would be nice and easy in 
nearly every case. Keep your hands down, and your 
arms pressed lightly against your sides in walking or 
sitting. You need not look like a trussed chicken, at 
all, but a little stiffness at first is less harm than careless- 
ness. Don't have slovenly manners whatever you are. 

Don't think, in all this advice, that you are to be 
little prigs and "high-shouldered" small creatures. 
There is a time to lounge, and a time to sit with one's 
head higher than one's heels, and to lie on the hearth- 
rug. These are all changes of position 4:hat rest us by 
changing the weight from one muscle to another. It 
is a good thing, sometimes, to sit in a chair tipped 
back, or put one's feet on a window-sill ; it takes the 
strain off one's back. But we will take care to do this 
by ourselves or with those so friendly and, close as to 
be like ourselves. To sprawl before a stranger or 
visitor is entirely too familiar. It says, " I don't con- 
sider you of enough account to put myself in a pleas- 
ing position before you. I don't care whether I look 
awkward or not in your presence." 



Papers on Children's Etiquette. ,35 

It isn't a comfortable feeling to give a person, and 
it's no credit to you. None of us have such fine man- 
ners that we need be saving of them, or be afraid of 
making too good an impression. We were made to 
be pleasant to ourselves and to others, and we ought 
to look well and act well for their sakes. Even in the 
privileged time of a home evening, or in one's room 
with a chum, there is such a thing as easy lounging 
quiet enough to save the eyes of a looker-on, and there 
is a loutish, wide-armed and wide-legged sprawling, for 
which any mortal deserves to be started out of his 
chair with a rattan .cane. I have seen a young man 
just from college, not to speak of men a good many 
years from it, who, in talking with a woman he did not 
know very well, would curl up in a easy chair with 
his shoulders above his collar and one leg over the 
arm of a chair, never knowing the rudeness he was 
guilty of. And I've seen a woman of very good fam- 
ily indeed, who composed in French and painted in 
water-colors, sprawl between two seats before two 
chance visitors, till she looked as if she were just 
about to tip over ; and I knew a poetess who read 
blue and gold books to young men in the back parlor, 
half lying on an easy chair with her feet on the sofa, 
both ladies having good health, and being in no way 
familiar with their visitors. . 



36 Behaving, or Papers on Children 's Etiquette. 

\ But your mother wouldn't like to have you do so, 
- and I want to help you with . hints, so that you will 
never fall into these bad habits. You have a better 
chance to grow wise and agreeable than those who 
went before you, for the world is wiser, and you 
are getting the benefit of it. Make much of your 
chance. 



IV. 



MANNERS AT HOME. 

"T DREAD to have vacation come, for the children 
X will be at home all the time." 
Somebody's mother said this in the sitting-rodin, not 
long ago. 

It was a queer thing for a woman to say, as if she 
wanted to get rid of her children. But you may think 
it queerer when I say I don't blame that mother one 
bit. I know how things go on in that house. 

In the morning trouble begins. To say nothing of 
screeches, howls and jumps up-stairs, while the chil- 
dren are dressing, that sound as if there was a bear- 
garden overhead, peace down-stairs is at an end when 
the first small head presents itself. Instead of com- 
ing down in any Christian fashion, the door flies open 

37 



38 



Behaving, or 



in a way to carry lock and hinges with it, and a boy 
lands in the middle of the floor. Four mornings in a 
week he has to be sent back to comb his hair smooth, 
or take care of a strap or shoe-lacing. 

He would never affront our eyes in such a way if 
he thought to take a good look in the glass before he 
came down. He has his head in the Wide Awake 
before his mother can send him back, and drags his 
unwilling body away, with his eyes on the book, till 
her voice quickens him, and he disappears with a 
hand-spring on the way. 

You can't think how entertaining it is to have such 
a boy in the family. He took the table-cloth with him 
one morning, and upset the ink, and it only took two 
hours to undo the harm. For two weeks after, Harry 
was kind enough to vary the performance by walking 
out of the room on his hands instead of his feet. As 
far as the mischief he can do, I don't know that it 
makes any difference which end of a boy is upper- 
most, but most folks 'prefer seeing a curly head, or a 
smooth one, to a pair of dusty Boots, with the soles 
broken. 

Harry says we are " pernickitty," a Scotch word he 
has picked up somewhere, meaning particular. It is 
a queer word, and expresses queer people. Whether 
it is queer not to like to see boys with shock heads 



Papers on Children y s Etiquette, 39 

and soiled jackets, or to have them shout, shuffle and 
hoot nearly every minute of their mortal lives, is a 
point on which Harry and we, differ. I am sorry to 
say that not even the Wide Awake can keep him 
still. While he reads it he whistles, drums on the 
table, and, as a last resort, plays tunes on his teeth, 
which rattle like castanets. It is a very pleasant va- 
riety performance, but I have known people to object 
to a hand-organ, when it played all day. 

Carrie's father calls her the champion whiner. She 
always comes down cross in the morning, which, I 
think, is the effect of nibbling candy all the time. 
There is no harm in eating candy, as much as you 
w T ant, if you eat it about meal times. Eut if you eat 
a little, now and again, it will make you sick and 
cross and headachy, as I know poor Carrie is half the 
time. 

As breakfast isn't quite ready, Carrie takes a bit of 
caramel, and, crowding close up to her mother, begins, 
with a whine, by way of grace-note : 

" Mamma, what shall I do with myself to-day ? " 

" It is so bright I think it would do to walk. You 
might go to ask after Aunt Jane." 

" N-o-o. I don't feel like walking to-day. What 
else is there ? " 

" Do you want to help me stone raisins ? I'm going 
to make cake this forenoon." 



40 



'Behaving, or 



"N-o-o-o. That's too sticky work. I don't like it. 

Give me something else." 

" Well, how would you like to paint ? Or will you 
try making those picture-frames, out of fret-work? 
You used to do them so nicely." 

" No, I don't like any of those things. I want 
something different. Oh, dear ! I thought you would 
give me such a good time in vacation, and I don't see 
one thing pleasant." 

After breakfast, before she has been out of doors, to 
get a smile from the sun, or say good-morning to the 
large, bright, busy, happy world outside, this wretched, 
nervous midge of a girl curls up on the lounge, with 
Jean Ingelow's stories, the sweetest ever written for 
children. But Carrie pays Miss Ingelow a poor com- 
pliment, by reading her book in this stupid, selfish 
fashion, just as a greedy child crams itself with candy. 
All the sweet, bright, cool morning she sits there like 
lead, and it is as much as the family peace is worth to 
try to move her. I have my lap full of work, and ask 
her for the scissors, and she gets up, oh ! so slowly, 
holding the book to her nose, and reads all across the 
room, and back again, sticks the scissors out before 
her without looking, so that she nearly pokes them 
into my face. 

Her mother tells her to go to the next neighbor's for 
the cake-pan, which goes back and forth between the 



Papers on Children 9 s Etiquette. 



41 



two houses till neither is quite sure which owns it. 
Miss wakes up with a stretch and a yawn like the poo- 
dle on the hearth, which shows much more than her 
boot-tops, below her dress, hunts another bit of car- 
amel from her pocket, which she munches in a very 
unpleasant fashion, saunters along as if her shoulder 
and hip were out of joint, and gets as far as the hall, 
first time trying. 

There she stops to look over the letters in the bas- 
ket, waiting for the mail. She picks them up, and 
reads the directions, commenting on them, after this 
style : 

" Papa has been writing to Mr. Griffin, about the 
horses, I suppose. Heard him tell mother about it 
when I was in the bay-window, and he didn't know I 
was there. Miss Durant has a letter for that gentle- 
man she writes to every morning. I guess he is her 
beau." He was Miss Durant's half-brother, only 
Miss Wisdom didn't know that. " Mother has been 
writing to Aunt Kate, and there is something in the 
letter. I wish I knew what it is. Oh, it's a piece of 
my new dress. I guess she is going to get some 
more for kilt plaitings. I don't want kilt plaitings. 
Bessie Evarts says they are going out, and I want fine 
shirring. 

" Mamma," bouncing into the room, " are you go- 



42 Behaving, or N 

f ing to put kilt plaiting on my dress ? Because you 
are real mean if you do. It isn't stylish ; all the girls 
say so j and i£ you make it " — here she forgets her- 
self completely — "I just woitt wear it, there ! " 

All this fuss is for nothing, because her mother had 
only sent for a yard or two more of silk, to make a 
new waist when the old one wore out. But, you see, 
people who want to know more than is good for them 
find, as Solomon says, that too much wisdom is a 
weariness to the flesh. 

Harry comes in by this time, with his trousers 
tucked into his boots, his hat on his head, and mud 
on his feet. He throws himself into the easy chair, 
while his mother, tired with her forenoon's work, sits 
down on the lounge, with nothing at her back to rest 
it. She can sit uncomfortably, but somebody comes 
in who can't think of such a thing, not she ! 

" Mamma| Harry's got my place. . I was going to 
have that chair. Make him get up." 

" Why didn't you keep it, then, Nannie ? " Harry 
is an expert at making faces, and he gives his sister 
the benefit of it. 

" Mamma ! stop Harry making faces at me. You're 
a real mean boy. Stop ! " * 

And the little fury flies at her brother, her hands in 
his hair, scratching and biting, while Harry kicks and 



Papers on Children f s Etiquette. 



43 



cuffs and shakes her off, howling. Pretty, isn't it ? 

Well, this is the picture I have seen between the 
children of this well-to-do family nearly every day for 
a month. Do you wonder their mother dreads to see 
vacation come ? 

The children settle down behind the window-curtain, 
pouting. 

" Oh, dear ! " sighs a small, miserable voice, " I 
thought vacation would be so nice, — and it isn't at 
all ! " 

* 

" Carrie/' says her tired mother, " can you tell what 
you would like if you could have it ? " 

" I could," shouts Harry, interrupting ; " never to 
do anything you don't want to." 

" I asked Carrie," observed his mother. 

" Well, yes," says the poor, thin little voice, "I'd 
want to be always doing the thing I liked best, and 
have somebody to tell me what it was." 

Poor child ! she reminds me of the French people 
in politics. Somebody said, who knew them pretty 
well, that they didn't know what they wanted, but 
were always fighting because they couldn't get it. 

Let us see how this rule of never doing anything 
one didn't want to would work. The person of all the 
world who comes nearest to always having his own 
way, I suppose, is the Shah of Persia. His will has 



44 



Behaving, or 



been law, ever since he was born, one may say, and 
I've a notion that he has found it very hard work to 
know what to do with himself. Probably the journey 
to Europe was taken to amuse him, because he was 
tired of everything else. The kings and queens, the 
emperors and grand dukes, did all they could think of 
to entertain him because he was the chief ruler of a 
country, just as they are, and they can't have company 
as high as themselves every day. They made feasts 
and balls for him, and got up great shows of soldiers 
and fire-works to please him. They would gather all 
their armies that they could get together, and have 
sham battles, and all their ships of war, and have 
mock sea-fights, sights that the kings and dukes 
thought very grand themselves. 

But they found the Shah such a troublesome visitor 
that, we are told, they were very glad to have him go 
home as;ain. He thought manners of as little account 
as Harrv does, and as he never had to do anvthing 
that he didn't like, he never paid the least attention 
to them. If his food didn't please him he spit it out, 
or threw it about the floors. He ate with his fingers, 
because it was handy, I suppose, just as Harry says, 
when his mother speaks to him for picking the raisins 
from the mince-pie with lis fingers. Before the court, 
where all the lords and ladies were beautifully dressed, 



Papers on Children's Etiquette. 



45 



and had the most beautiful manners to correspond, 
this savage Shah thought no more of going to sleep, 
if the fit seized him, than of lighting his pipe. IsTo 
matter if he was to spend the evening at a grand ball 
at a palace, and he found anything that amused him 
more, if it were only a little dancing dog, he would 
wait, and disappoint everybody, and keep everyone 
else waiting, till he was half coaxed, half dragged 
away to keep his promise. 

He was sulky and rude just as the humor took him 
He would say to a nice old lady, "How ugly you 
are ! " and ask a marl, "What makes you have such 
an ugly wife ? If I were you I would get rid of her." 
In the middle of a show, at which people had spent 
thousands of dollars to please him, he would order his 
carriage away, because something did not suit him, or 
because he was just hungry, and thought he had 
rather be eating an apple-tart than " wasting his time 
over such fool nonsense," as he probably said to the 
folks who asked hirn there. 

The very people who wanted him to come to their 
houses dreaded to see him stay, for he was so careless 
with his food, throwing it about, and spilling his drink, 
as to spoil all the carpets and the ladies' dresses near 
him. 

He thougt, like Harry, that it was too much 



46 Behaving, or 

trouble to be always thinking about manners, as the 
boy says, when his mother wants him to use his nap- 
kin carefully, and not spill crumbs on the carpet. 

Poor Empress of Germany ! I know how to feel for 
her with such a rude guest, for we have somebody at 
our house who hasn't a bit better manners than the 
Shah. I'm sorry for the boy, too. His ears must be 
tired of the din, " Harry, don't step on my dress ; " 
" Harry, don't make such a noise with, that apple ; " 
or, as Carrie says, " Don't chank so ; " or, " Harry, 
keep off my work, do, please." 

Do you want to hear a sermon Harry's mother 
preached to him ? It is a cast-off sermon, but Harry 
never made any use of it, and it ought to be as good 
as new. Perhaps some of you have heard something 
like it before. 

> 

The house is the place to be quiet. If you want to 
frolic and shout, go out of doors, and have a good 
enough time there so you can be quiet in-doors. Move 
lightly and pleasantly. Don't go pounding about the 
house as if your boots were going through the floors, 
or come down stairs as if the top walls were tumbling 
after you. Fly round as fast as you like, but don't 
make a noise about it. I know it is just as easy to go 
to the top of a house, four flights of stairs, three steps 
at a time, without making noise enough to let anybody 



Papers on Children x s -Etiquette. 



47 



know what you are doing, as to thunder about it. 
Don't ask me how I found out, but it is one of the 
things I know all about. 

Carrie needs to mind her steps, too. It is a great 
wonder to grown folks how slim girls can make so 
much noise as they do. They don't walk, they pound, 
as if their business was to wear out carpets. Girls are 
forever talking about being stylish and genteel, and 
worrying about an inch or two in the width of their 
trimmings, or the shape of their hats, as if their stand- 
ing depended on such things entirely, while they are 
as coarse and common as can be in their manner of 
carrying themselves. It is always to be desired that 
your clothes should be fresh and pretty, but it is of 
much more consequence that your bodies should be 
nice, and well trained in their movements. The dress 
may be something jou can't help, but the body and 
the manner is yours — to be a credit or discredit, as 
it happens. 

So be neat. If a child goes about with soiled neck 
and ears, it is a sure sign he does not think much of 
himself, and how can I, or anybody else, think much 
of him ? Don't be afraid of soap and water. If you 
can, use hot water every morning to wash your neck 
and face, rubbing the soap well into the roots of your 
hair on the forehead and behind the ears. Nobody 



4 s 



Behaving^ or 



can wash quite as clean with cold water as with hot, 
for the latter dissolves the oil of the skin, that gathers 
the dust every day, and crusts with it. Your skin will 
look a shade whiter for washing with hot water. But 
I shall give you a whole sermon on this very thing 
another time. 

Now let me tell you something I doubt you have 
ever heard from mother or grandmother in just the 
same words, though they have been telling you pretty 
much the same thing since you were old enough to 
hear. 

Keep yourself to yourself. Don't be putting your 
elbows into my side, as you button yourself to me to 
look at the last Wide Awake, when it comes from the 
post-ofiice. Keep your eyes to yourself. Don't be 
peeping into people's letters, or staring at a new dress, 
or a mark on anyone's face. It is very ill-bred to try 
to find out anything you are not intended to know, or 
to hear what is not meant for you. Make your glance 
as light and quick as your step. Besides, it is not 
kind to notice defects. So don't look at a cripple's 
lame leg, or the swelling on anyone's cheek. 

Keep your hands to yourself. It is rude to touch 
anything that belongs to another till leave has been 
given. How did you act, Ham', when Professor 
Craig was here? He had brought cut his photo- 



Papers on Children Etiquette. 



49 



graphs and specimens for lis to see, and laid them on 
the table. There were delicate pressed plants and 
samples of gold dust on the table, but you rushed at 
the pictures,* with your usual "What's this?" and 
seized them, knocking over the dust, and crushing a 
rare Australian fern. 

It was no use to say " I'm sorry," and " I didn't 
mean to." Nobody supposes you did ; but that didn't 
bring back the fern that the professor thought so much 
of, or pick up the gold dust. Carelessness is worse 
than stealing. You don't think so ? Would it be 
worse to take the fern because you wanted it, or to 
spoil it, because you couldn't keep your hands to 
yourself ? You are like the kings of old, who drove 
right over people rather than turn their chariots out of 
the way. Instead of laying hands on whatever you 
can get hold of, try never to touch anything not your 
own, unless you are told to. 

But Harry's rudeness is not half as offensive as 
Carrie's. She seems to think it very smart and spir- 
ited to say to her mother, with a saucy pertness : " I 
shan't, mamma, you needn't think I'm going to ;" or, 
" Mamma Kent, I think you're right mean ; " or 
"Mamma, I tell you I'm not going to have that." 
I suppose it very refined, after their notion, for the 
"young misses" of Church Hill, as they like to be 
called, to talk to their mothers as they would to a 



Behaving, or 



chambermaid, only the chambermaid wouldn't endure 
such language. If the young misses — it is as well to 
call them so, the name fits them, for they are neither 
nice girls, nor young ladies — if these misses have no 
respect for the fifth commandment, or love for their 
mothers, I notice they have an exaggerated dread of 
being out of style. 

Style, I think, stands with some people instead of 
taste, kindness and conscience, as it is the only thing 
for which they have the slightest consideration. They 
would be aghast at their pertness, if they knew what, 
very bad style indeed it was, and that the children of 
the wealthiest and best families are trained to a strict- 
ness of respect for their parents which it would be 
very hard for the misses of Church Hill to learn. 

Respect for one's father and mother, as well as to 
older persons generally, is the first point of high breed- 
ing ail over the world. All the most polished nations 
hold it so. The French, who give lessons on manners 
to other nations, will show an old woman more atten- 
tion than they will the prettiest young one. The 
Chinese and Japanese, who are among the most polite 
people on the face of the globe, are devoted to their 
fathers and mothers ; and the Turks everywhere pay 
the deepest respect to an old man. One does not 
hear the phrase, " the old man," used, except as a title 
of honor. If you were a young princess, or a count- 



Papers on Children 's Etiquette. 



5* 



ess, as you have often thought you would like to be, 
the first thing you would have to learn would be re- 
spect for others. You would not be allowed to keep 
the easy-chair when your mother the queen, or your 
aunt the countess, came into the room. No matter 
how tired you were, or how interesting a book you 
were reading, you would have to rise, put aside what 
you were doing, and wait quietly till your august rela- 
tive told you to be seated. If she wanted anything a 
yard away, and you let her rise from her chair and 
wait on herself, you would probably be sent away in 
disgrace, and kept until you learned better manners, 
more becoming a princess. 



If you, Harry, were His Royal Highness of Saxony, 
and were to marry a queen when old enough, you 
would have to improve on your present manners to a 
degree that would make you sick of life for awhile. 
You would have to learn to pay attention to other 
people before yourself, to be pleasant when you 
didn't feel like it, to wait on ladies, and be polite to 
old men with great gray moustaches and not much to 
say, because they were high generals in the,, army, or 
councilors of state. If you showed temper to His 
Majesty your father, you would, in all probability, be 
ordered under arrest, like a common soldier, to teach 
you to respect authority. 



52 Behaving, or 

Every soldier, no matter what his rank, must learn 
to obey, and to show respect. Every officer of gov- 
ernment, every man of position in the world, has to do 
the same. The only exceptions are people like the 
^Shah, and the Khedives of the East, who are of very 
little account in the world. Thev never care about 
manners, and never do anything they don't want to, if 
they can help it. The consequence is, they seldom 
have a good time for their own part, and they never 
allow others to enjoy themselves at all. 



V. 



PARTY ETIQUETTE. 



HE kind and thoughtful lady who presides over 



JL these pleasant pages hopes I will remember her 
children who want to know how to carry themselves 
at parties. When I was a little girl and went to par- 
ties, the only thing we thought about was how to enjoy 
ourselves best, and we tried to do this so hard that we 
often succeeded in spoiling the whole affair. It takes 
something more than ice creams, glace fruit, and " the 
German," with favors, to make the party a success. 
The best way to insure a good time that anybody 
knows, is for the hostess to think of nothing but how 
to please her guests, and for them to think how to 
please each other. 

But as it is in everything else, wishing to please 
and'knowing how to please are two different things. 




54 



Behaving, or 



It is a great mistake for anyone to say that the desire 
to be polite is all that is necessary to teach politeness. 
As you grow older you will see many well-meaning 
folks who, with the best wish in the world to be 
agreeable, never know enough to make themselves so. 
Don't be above giving your good- will the benefit of 
training. . 

What do you want to give a party for ? So that you 
can swing, and dance, and play croquet, eat bon-bons 
and white grapes, or nuts and ajDples, all you want, and 
have boys and girls to help amuse you ? That is not 
the idea of giving a party. You ask your friends to 
come to your house that you may give them a good 
time, and if you don't care enough about them to put 
your own likes and dislikes aside for one afternoon or 
evening, to attend to theirs, you had better not have 
a party at all. Instead, you ought to ask your mother 
to let you eat the cake and jellies alone, and hire a 
boy to come and swing you, or get your two aunts to 
spend a day amusing you by yourself. If you want 
other children to see how much better your house and 
croquet set are than anything they have, or mean to 
show off your new dress and your mother's fine fruit 
cake, and the variety of nice things she can spread 
the table with, you might as well have a doorkeeper 
and charge admission, for all the politeness there is 
in your party giving. 



Papers on Children 9 s Etiquette. 



55 



It is your place to give pleasure in your own house. 
Grown people expect to take a great deal of pains to 
please their guests, sure that they will return the 
kindness in their own homes some other time. If you 
want your friends to come and enjoy your garden or 
your house, and are willing to lay yourself out, to 
make them happy, thg.t is the right feeling to give a 
party with, and I hope you may give one very often. 

If you want to have your party in really good style, 
don't put on too much about it. Foolish little girls, 
who tease to have cards printed for their evenings, and 
call them receptions, should know what Mr. Tiffany's 
engraver says, who sends invitations for the most ele- 
gant people in New York : that a written invitation 
is always more of a compliment than a printed one, 
just as it is more of an attention to send a letter to a 
friend than a newspaper. The only use of a written 
invitation is to remind people of an engagement that 
might otherwise slip their minds, or to save the 
hostess the trouble of going to ask a number of 
friends in person. 

For a pleasant afternoon or evening's fun, your 
acquaintances ought to find it polite enough if you 
send to ask them by word of mouth, just as Mrs. 
Lewis Washington used to ask her neighbors to drink 
tea, when it was held an honor at the capital to be 



56 Behaving, or 

invited in this informal way by the niece of Washing- 
ton himself. 

If you want a large party, it will be more conven- 
ient to write to your friends. An invitation should 
be neatly written on a whole sheet of small note 
paper, with envelope to match, and sent by hand. 
I mention these things, because young people are apt 
to be careless about such things, unless they are 
finical, and just as bad the other way. It is never 
polite to send an invitation through the post-office^ in 
your own town, though it may be very convenient, for 
you cannot be sure of its reaching the person in time, 
as when it is sent by messenger. Remember these 
things, for you will find the etiquette the same when 
you are men and women. 

You hardly need a form for the notes. Pray don't 
put on airs that would suit if you were your own 
father and mother, but be your own size. It is just 
as absurd for you to use the forms and expressions of 
older people, as if you went about in your father's 
long-tailed coat, or your mother's shawl and gown. 
You may read these notes, from girls of fourteen, and 
choose which you like for a model. 

"The favor of your company is requested at Mrs. 
Benthusen Jones', Summit Street, on Thursday even- 
ing, May, 3d, at half past eight o'clock. Dancing. 

" R. S. V. P." 



Papers on Children 's Etiquette, 



57 



R. S. V. P., after the invitation, stands for the 
French phrase, " Respondez s*il votes plait" which 
means, "Answer, if you please." It saves time in 
writing, which is a good excuse for using French or 
any other language. Be careful in using new forms, 
however, or you may make as queer a blunder as the 
lady did whose ideas of abbreviations were some- 
what mixed, so that she sent out all her invitations 
marked, instead of R. S. V. jP., with R. L P., which 
is a common form that Roman Catholics put on 
tombstones and at the end of funeral notices, and 
means, u Requiescat in pace" or "May his soul rest in 
peace," a pleasant wish enough, but one her friends 
were not ready to see used for them. 

The other reads : 

" Dear Mary : My friends are coming Friday even- 
ing, for a gay time. Of course they won't all be here 
unless you are. Will you be sure and come ? Half 
past seven, and dancing. Yours, 

Nellie. 

27 Rivington Place, 

If there is to be dancing you should always give a * 
hint of it, as people like to dress more and in a 
lighter way for a dance than where there is only 
music and round games. 



Behaving, or 



The person asked should always send an answer, 
so that the hostess will know who is coming. After 
you have promised to go, if anything happens to pre- 
vent, lose no time in sending word, so that some one 
else may be asked to take your place, for there may 
not be enough to make up a play or a darlce without. 
When you give a party, look up all your amusements 
beforehand, your croquet set, the parlor billiards, the 
grace hoops, the battledores and the card games, to 
have them in good order, ready for fun. Look out 
the music you will want, and remember, you are to 
play yourself before you ask anyone else. No mat- 
ter if others play better than you do, it is your place 
to do your best in some short piece, so that none of 
your guests need feel that you are saving your 
modesty at the expense of -theirs. Eut you mustn't 
try to show off in your own house. Let others appear 
at their best. You must even dress plainer than the 
rest, that no one may feel mortified by comparison. 
But when you go to a party you must put on your 
best clothes in compliment to the lady who asks you. 

If you have a visitor staying with you when you are 
invited to a party, it is the proper thing to ask per- 
mission beforehand to bring her with you, and no 
polite hostess would think for a minute of refusing 
the request. If such a thing happened, or your visitor 



Papers on Children 9 s Etiquette, 



59 



had no dress for a party with her, or anything else 
kept her from going, either you should all stay away, 
or one of your family should stay with her to keep 
her company. I hope you don't need to be told it 
would be the greatest rudeness to leave her at home 
alone. If you have a friend with you who does not 
know the hostess, present him or her at once, after 
you make your own greeting. Say, " Mrs. King," al- 
ways speaking her name first, " this is Mary Clymer, 
or Willie Hazard, you told me to bring." 

Be near the door to meet your friends, speak to 
them cordially, give them something to look at, or 
some one to talk to, and make them feel at home at 
once. Your mother should be with you to receive 
the company, for it is her house they come to, and it 
is her place to make them welcome. Afterward, she 
may leave you or not, as she chooses. When you go 
to a party, always speak to the lady of the house first 
of anyone in the room, when you enter, and to her 
son or daughter who gives the party, and such of the 
family as are near, before anyone else. You only 
need to say/ 1 ' Good-evening, Mrs. So-and-so it is her 
place to say something pleasant to you, and then, un- 
less she keeps you talking, you must move away to 
give others a chance. It is the part of the girl who 
gives the party to see that everyone is amused and 



6o Behaving, or Papers on Children's Etiquette. 

sociable all the time, not leaving anyone to feel 
neglected, or showing one person more attention than 
another. . If she sees a shy girl or boy standing alone, 
the best way is not to say, "You look lonesome," or 
" I'm afraid you are not enjoying yourself," drawing 
everybody's attention, but find something quietly for 
that person to do. Ask the boy to show pictures or 
flowers to another one, stroll that way with another 
girl and set them to talking, or walk with her yourself, 
taking no notice of any bashfulness at first, till you 
make her forget herself. Never forget the plain, shy 
people, if you want to have the reputation of giving 
pleasant parties ; the bright, lively ones can take care 
of themselves. 

You will find in the next paper full directions for 
behaving at a grand party, if the editor thinks worth 
while. 



VI. 



PARTY ETIQUETTE. — FOR THE GUESTS. 

LITTLE VISITOR, or one not so little either, 
your part of the civilities at a party is not so 
trying as that of the lady who undertakes to amuse 
you all. 

If you go to a stylish party in town, the servant 
takes you up-stairs to the room where you lay off your 
wraps, before you meet the lady of the house at all. 
See that your dress is all in order, and your bows 
pulled out nicely, and not tied in a wisp as I have 
seen them on little girls at parties, your hair tidy, no 
stray locks about the ears and temples, and your sash 
smooth. Of course nobody has to tell you every time 
you sit you should lift the sash or overskirt, not to 

61 



62 



Behaving^ or 



crease it. At a party it is the business of everyone to 
look their best, and a dowdy dress is as much out ol 
place there as slang in church. Dress as well as you 
can afford to, and with care, so that no pins can come 
out, and no ribbon come untied, and no flowers drop 
out, and then you are not to think about your looks 
any more. Lady Hancock, the wife of John Han- 
cock, and one of the grandest ladies of the Revolu- 
tion, when ladies were more particular than they are 
now, used to say that she would never forgive a girl 
who did not dress to please, or who appeared pleased 
with her dress. You know how absurd it seems to 
you when a girl goes about, looking as plain as words 
could say, "This is a new dress, and I am completely 
satisfied with it, and can think of nothing else.' , 
Don't flatter yourself that if you feel so it won't creep 
out. People can see vanity right through one. Noth- 
ing in the world shows so plainly, and the only way 
not to show it is not to feel it. You look and act 
nicely ? Very well, it is something to be glad of, but 
there are dozens more in your circle of friends who 
appear as well as you do, or think so at any rate, and 
there is no use to give yourself airs. Other people 
think more of their looks and dress than they will of 
yours, and if you think of yourself every minute it 



Papers on Children 's Etiquette. 



63 



won't make you one whit prettier, or more noticed. 
The best thing you can do is to forget yourself as 
soon as you can. 

If one of the girls has : a pretty dress, have the 
grace to admire it cordially, and don't be vulgar and 
envious enough to run it down and say cutting things, 
even if you think she needs taking down. Have you 
never heard such talk as this at a party ? 

" Did you see that Valenciennes overdress ? And 
don't she feel good over it ! I wouldn't be as proud 
as some people are for money ! " 

" Do you think that cardinal color becomes Sidney 
French ? I can't say it is in good taste to wear such 
conspicuous colors. But Sid French would wear two 
kinds of hair to make folks look at her." 

" Should you think 'Titia Gleason would wear that 
old sage green silk, made over from her mother's ? 
Those Gleasons ought to dress better. Their father 
is making money, and he could afford to give those 
girls anything. If I were one of them I wouldn't go 
out in company at all if I couldn't have as good as 
the best. My mother says she does like to see folks 
dress according to the company they keep," and so 
on. 

The girls of to-day know more than their mothers 



64 Behaving, or 

ever did, or ever will again. The most experienced 
society woman can say, as. Swift's " City Madam" did 
long ago, 

" My little Xancy ' 
In flounces hath a better fancy " 

than she has herself. 

Parties and dress always go together. Why is it 
that parties do not always suggest the best and sweet- 
est of everybody in other ways ? 

You don't need to be told to wait in the dressing- 
room, till all those who came with you are ready, so 
that your party, can go down together. You will find 
the lady of the house, and her son or daughter who 
gives the party near the parlor door, and you are to go 
up to them and make ,a bow if you are a boy, or a 
courtesy if you are a girl. It may help you to make 
a courtesy to remember that it is half kneeling to the 
person you salute. When you bow don't bend your 
neck as if you were going to have your head cut off, 
but bend your shoulders, and don't laugh at anyone 
who makes an awkward salute. Unless the lady says 
something to you, the best thing is to walk right away 
and talk to somebody vou know. If vou are a stran- 
ger, don't get into a corner and stay there till some- 
body drags you out, neither make yourself conspicu- 
ous, but sit just out of the way till the others are 



Papers on Children 's Etiquette. 



6; 



introduced to you. If you are overlooked you are 
at liberty to speak to anyone without ceremony. 
Don't complain that you are slighted, or say that 
you find the time dull, but seek for something to 
amuse yourself with, so that when people come to you 
they will not have a pouting, insulted child to take 
care of. Try not to feel too much hurt at what looks 
like neglect ; people seldom intend slights, but they 
sometimes are careless of their company without really 
knowing it. 

I hope you don't need telling that it is in the worst 
possible taste to show spite or insist on your prefer- 
ences against the wishes of others at a party, of all 
places in the world. Haven't I seen a girl in flounced 
silk and embroidered muslin bathed in tears in a side 
room, with friends hovering over her, begging her to 
be consoled, offering anything to make peace, and for 
what ? Because somebody had insisted that her way 
of playimg croquet was not the right one, according to 
club rules, or her bosom friend had perversely played 
airs from Madame Angot, when she wanted to sing 
her pretty Scotch song. There had been no outburst, 
only the disappointed one had gone off and grieved 
till she drew half the party round her to sympathize 
with her. Girls often think such sentimental airs and 
tender spirits very interesting, but instead they are 



66 



Behaving, or 



very selfish and ridiculous. No matter how much 
your feelings are hurt or your wishes crossed, try not 
to show it, and the rest will feel very grateful to you 
for not spoiling their pleasure with your airs. 

The rules for any party are not different from those 
for behavior at home. You dance and play and 
make yourself pleasant, just as you do at home always. 
This ought to put some of you on your good behavior, 
for, try as you will, and put on all you can, you can't 
show anything better in company than your old home 
everyday manners. You may set put to be veiy polite, 
but unless you are polite every day, the shabby, rough, 
common style gives all the impression that people get 
of you. Manners are not like clothes, that you can 
put on fine or coarse at pleasure, but like your spine 
and shoulders, that grow straight or crooked, as you 
carry yourself all the time. And let this be a caution, 
never to have manners too fine for everyday, or to try 
to be so nice that you can't carry it out. I mean, 
don't use too fine language, or try to be too sweet, or 
tire yourself out waiting on people, just to make an 
impression. Don't smile at each time you speak to 
anyone ; it looks silly, and you should allow somebody 
at home to make fun of you a good many times to 
break you of the habit. Smile when there is any- 
thing to smile at, but to grin or giggle when you say 



Papers on Children's Etiquette. 



67 



any common thing, like a It's a pleasant day," makes 
you look little better than a fool. 

When supper is served, a boy will look for some 
little girl to wait on, and bring her what she asks for, 
a plate of oysters or cup of beef tea, which, is fashion- 
able for parties now, or some cold tongue first, then 
cake and jelly with ice-creams, and the grapes and 
candy afterward, if there are such things. But a gen- 
tleman does not take his supper till he sees that who- 
ever he waits on has all that she wants first. At a 
sit-down supper people look out for themselves more. 
Don't try to eat all the good things you can, and don't 
carry off anything in your pocket to eat afterwards. 
Don't be greedy, and what is more, don't speak of it 
if you see anyone else greedy. Remember the good 
old rabbi who was wakened by one of his twelve 
sons saying, " Behold, my eleven brethren lie sleep- 
ing, and I am the only one who wakens to praise 
and pray." " Son," said the wise father, "you had 
better be asleep, too, than wake to censure your 
brothers." No fault can be as bad as the feeling 
which is quick to see and speak of other people's 
wrong. 1 

If asked to sing or pi a}', and you can do so, oblige 
your friends without being urged ; but unless very 
sure you can do well, allow no teasing to lead you to 



68 



Behaving, or 



make a spectacle of yourself. Sing only one song 
or play one air at a time. If anyone else can take 
your place, let him do so,, if not, chat or have a game 
between the music. Never do anything that looks 
like showing off, and the more you know the more 
gracefully this modesty will sit upon you. ' One never 
can be sure that the least educated and gifted of the 
party may not see and know more on some points 
than the brightest. Never allow compliments to draw 
you into speaking of yourself, and never repeat a com- 
pliment, except in private, to your mother or nearest 
friend, who will take more interest in you than you do 
in yourself. 

In the games and dances, don't choose the best 
partner always, but give the plain, uninteresting ones 
a chance, and help them to show their best. Don't 
allow anyone to laugh at your partner, for that is the 
next thing to laughing at you. Look at the imperti- 
nent boy or girl coolly and gravely, and the giggle will 
soon stop. 

Don't be the last one to go away from a party if 
you can help it. Find the lady of the house to say 
good-night, and thank her for a pleasant evening if 
you have found it so. Then, get your wraps, and say 
good-night to those friends you meet on the way. 
There is no saying good-bye all around where there 



Papers on Children's Etiquette. 



69 



are many guests. If it is a small, intimate party, you 
shake hands and make your adieus to each. 

I was- surprised to find that at the close of the 
last one of these papers, I had promised to give di- 
rections for behaving at a grand* party. The less 
children know of grand parties the better, and the 
more they will enjoy such -when they grow up. But 
these hints may help one enjoy an ordinary evening 
out, remembering always that "Politeness is good 
feeling set to rule." 





VII. 

LTTTLE GENTLEFOLKS. 




F you please, Great-aunt Thomdike, what's a 

gentleman ? " 



It was little Ralph's sweet voice which spoke, in 
the dusk, behind his aunt's chair, as she sat in the 
fire-light, with her lace knitting flying in her slim, 
white fingers. Aunt Thorndike was a lady of the old 
school : and who in all the house sat straighter and 
stepped lighter than she, with her keen wits, kind 
heart, and clever fingers, like an old fairy? 

" Why, Ralphie ? " she asked, softly. 

" I hear so much about being a gentleman, and 
what belongs to a gentleman ; and in the book I was 
reading, it said, about a man I like, he was one of 
the truest gentlemen that ever lived. It sounds nice 
somehow." 

70 



Behaving, or Papers on Children's Etiquette, 7 1 

" So it is nice, Ralphie. The best thing that can 
be said of a man, or a boy, for that matter." 

"Tell me all about it ; what it is and what it isn't, 
so I can see if I could be one. Mamma said nobody- 
knew better what a gentleman is than you do, for your 
brothers were all gentlemen," 

" Bless the boy ! " said the aunt to herself, " is 
there any flattery sweeter than the flattery of chil- 
dren ? " 

She bent down and gave a kiss to the fair hair 
against her knee, partly for the sake of the dear, 
kindly little head, and partly for its praise of the 
brave brothers she remembered so well. 

One had been an officer in the navy, and died in 
fight, "A man who never knew fear or wrong," his 
brother officers said. Another was one of the finest 
lawyers in his state, and one a sea-captain ; but all 
honored and loved, with hearts as brave as they were 
clean and kind, and kinder never drew breath. 1 

" A gentle man," she began, thoughtfully. " What 
does that mean, Ralph ? " 

" I know. The teacher said it was just what it 
sounds, a man who is gentle and nice in his ways, 
polite to the girls and old women, and never says rude 
words, nor tries to cheat in croquet or marbles. Is 
that all, auntie ? " 



72 



Behaving, or 



" It doesn't all lie in being gentle," laughed the 
old lady, "nor yet in being a genteel man. as some 
folks think it does. It is more than being kind and 
polite, or nice in manners or clothes, though they all 
belong to it. It is, first of all, to be a man — manly. 
At the root of the notion of a gentleman lies the idea 
of being a strong, useful, protecting man ; and noth- 
ing else has the stuff in it to make a gentleman. In 
the old time, when the world was divided into two 
classes, gentles and common people, there were very 
strict lines for the former." 

" Oh, if "I could only find them now ! " cried Ralph. 
" The rules to make a gentleman ! Are they written 
anywhere ? " 

" They were never written, that I know of; but they 
were handed down from father to son, and never laws 
were obeyed as strictly as these. We know enough of 
them to be sure that the standard of a gentleman in 
those days did not in many things differ from what it 
should be to-day. And there is no reason why a little 
boy should not carry in his heart as stainless a code 
of honor as a plumed* and visored Knight of St. 
John." 

" There are no knights now," said Ralph, a little 
sadly. 

" I'm not so sure of that. Things go by working, 
nowadays, more than by fighting ; but they call for the 



Papers on Children's Etiquette. 73 * 

same knightly qualities of courage and endurance 
that rode forth with spear and crest to the field of 
battle. What do you- think was a knight's first duty? 
To fight for the true cross. The next was to serve his 
king and country. My Ralph's work is the same 
to-day — always believing in God and his truth, and, 
because you believe in at and cannot help it, working 
for it and defending it. And, to the day of your 
death there will be something to do for your country. 
You must watch, that bad principles do not creep in, 
or bad men get control, and you must count no tax of 
time or money top . great to keep things what they 
should be for you and those who come after you. 
This will be your work before many years, even 
if you never have to go out with rifle and sabre to 
really fight, as your brothers had to. When bad men 
or careless men say, as they are saying now about 
many things, ' This is not exactly what ought to be 
done — it is not doing fairly by what we ought to 
protect, but it is the easiest way to get along/ there 
must be one man to say, 4 No, the right way is the easiest 
in the end, and the only way,' if it is only my little 
Ralph, larger grown. No matter if you are only one 
for the right. Say your word as becomes a man. The 
rest may see it and he ashamed ; but, at least, you 
will have your heart and your conscience clean. 

"The knight's vow was to succor all who were op- 



74 



Behaving, or 



pressed, to right all wrongs which he came across, and 
to help all who stood in need. If a knight came 
upon any deed of cruelty or injustice, he could not 
say, ' It's no affair of mine — I won't interfere. I 
may get into trouble by it, and get hurt.' It was his 
particular business to interfere, and, when he saw a 
creature tortured, or found a captive in prison unlaw- 
fully, or knew of insult offered to a woman, a child's 
inheritance taken from it, or a child stolen from its 
parents, as happened in those cruel days, he was dis- 
graced if he did not go at once, with his good lance 
and his men, and set things right. What he was not 
strong enough to do he besought his brother knights 
to aid him in doing ; and to refuse this appeal would 
have cost a knight his honors and his sovereign's 
favor. 

"For a man to draw back from danger, when called to 
it, was a disgrace ; to tell a lie was a deep disgrace • to 
take a bribe, or allow himself to be influenced by fear 
or favor was to be unworthy the spurs he wore, and 
the society of other knights. I don't see why you 
could not be a little knight of St. John, Ralph. 

" Every good man, every man who is any better than 

so much straw stuffed into men's clothes, feels these 

' j 

same duties binding on him, in some sort, to-day. /To 
speak the truth, to protect the weak, to be loyal to 



Papers 011 Children s Etiquette. 



one's country, and live up to his religious faith, to be 
brave, and do what is best without looking to see 
whether one is going to make or lose by it, is just as 
much a gentleman's code now as it ever was; and 
whoever falls short of this, no matter how fine and 
pleasing his dress and manners, is By so much not a 
gentleman." 

" How could I protect the weak ? I'm such a little 
fellow!" 

" Not too little to see that neither you nor the other 
boys torment the old blind dog as he lies on the walk, 
not too little to pick up the bird fallen out of its nest, 
or to take a drowning fly out of the water, or to see 
that the rest do not 'run away from four-year-old 
Teddie, and leave him crying, when he wants to watch 
the game. You can protect the weak by insisting 
that the boys play fair, so that the younger ones and 
the poor players get their share of fun, and never 
allowing anybody to snub or pick at another, to hurt 
his feelings, without taking his part. 

" Be good to the animals and pets about you, that 
cannot help themselves. Don't drive the horse too 
fast when he has had a*hard day's work, nor leave the 
dog and cat unfed or half fed, or the bird without 
w r ater. They all depend on us for these things, and 
a gentleman neglects himself before one of these 



7 6 



Behaving, or 



dumb, patient creatures. How many times I have 
known your grandfather to get out of his bed in the 
middle of the night, to see that his cattle were shel- 
tered from a sudden storm, when farmers about left 
the poor things to shiver in the wet pastures all night. 
Your grandmother, too, was the kindest-hearted 
woman I ever knew. When your grandfather was 
away, the boys would sometimes forget to water one 
of the cows, that was not with the rest; but, tired 
with a busy day, and the care of her little children, 
she would get up at one o'clock at night, dress, and 
go down in the field with a pail of water in each hand 
for the poor thing that was lowing its heart away, 
parched with thirst. She was too tender-hearted to 
wake the boys, little fellows, sleeping soundly, and 
tired with work and play ; but she could not rest in 
her own comfortable bed till she was sure that all on 
her place were as well cared for as herself. 

" She was different enough from the man I heard 
once at his desk, considering whether he should send 
a check that he owed to a poor woman that day, or 
wait till it was convenient. 

" ' She wants the money) I suppose,' he was saying, 
. 1 but I shall have to draw another draft on the bank, 
and the cashier don't like to make out drafts so late. 
I guess I'll let it go. It will be just as good when it 
comes ! ' 



Papers on Children's Etiquette. 



77 



" So the poor woman had to wait two days without 
enough in the house to eat, because the man didn't 
want the bother of a few words with his cross cashier. 
And he knew that the money was all she had to de- 
pend on, and she was in trouble for want of it. He 
was a kind man, too, in his way. When he had more 
than he wanted, and it came as easy as not, he 
wouldn't mind giving a friend a good many hundred, 
dollars, which is more than some folks would do, if 
they had ten times more than they knew what to do 
with. But his was not the thorough, unselfish habit 
of a gentleman. 

" O, be kind, Ralph, as you grow up, and do the 
good that comes to your hand, never stopping because 
somebody else is not doing his part, or because you 
have done so much already, or because you get few 
thanks for it. It isn't the bad things we have done in 
our lives that alone will trouble us when we look our 
lives over, so much as the good we might have done, 
and didn't. 

" You wouldn't stone a cat, and drown her kittens 
to torment her, but who let puss go mewing round 
tiie house that cold night last winter, and wouldn't get 
up from his story-book to let her in, when her kittens 
were freezing out in the loft? You never made fun 
of Billy Sikes because he had to wear a shawl to 
school instead of an overcoat, rainy days ; but you 



7 8 



Behaving, or 



never tried to get acquainted with him, or you might 
have known that his father was saving every cent to 
buy the new books for his next class, that the school- 
board ordered. And there were your old ones, that 
you had studied through, and that he could have used 
just as well as not ! I declare, Ralph, I cried when I 
found out from his mother that she went without medi- 
cine for her face-ache, to make up what was wanted. 
And your old books, and your cap and slate, would 
have saved those six dollars, and given so much more 
comfort to the family these hard times. 

" It is the fashion now to say that poor people had 
better starve than ask for help. People say so who 
never knew what it was themselves to go without a 
meal, or suffer a real want, in their lives. And Billy 
could not have asked if any of you boys had old 
books to spare, without some fine fellow dubbing him 
a pauper, I suppose ; but it puts a heavy responsibility 
on us who are able to help, if we don't find out who 
needs it, and see that it is given. 

"You had tickets last summer to the excursion, and 
couldn't go, so you threw them away. The little 
Wylies cried themselves to sleep because their mother 
couldn't afford to let them go, and we might have 
found it out if we had taken pains. When you are as 
old as I am, Ralph, you won't dare to throw away a 
chance of giving somebody a pleasure. 



Papers on Children's Etiquette. 



79 



"Then a gentleman is true, true in meaning and 
intention, as well as words. It is fashionable for peo- 
ple to profess great regard for truth, and feel wofully 
insulted if anyone dares question it, but isn't it seldom 
you can find anyone you can trust, whether he means 
to deceive or not ? It is the habit of coloring things 
that makes one a liar before he knows it. It is so in 
school and out of it, with big folks and little ones. 
You want to be off with the boys playing, and you are 
not to go till your arithmetic lesson is learned. 

" ' Are you sure you can say that rule V your mother 
asks, as you rush away. 

" ' Yes, ma'am/ you say in a hurry, without think- 
ing very much. 

" ' Sure ? ' she says again, and this time you say 
' Yes,' sharply, not exactly caring whether you quite 
know it or not. 

" Somebody gives you a bunch of flowers, and you 
come home late to tea, wondering what you will say 
to get off a scolding. A bright idea comes into your 
head as you walk in at the gate. 

" i Mamma,' you cry, coming into the sitting-room 
eagerly, as if you expected a welcome, ' see what 
lovely flowers I have for you ! ' when, in fact, you 
never thought of giving them to her till you got home 
and then only as a peace-offering. 



So Behaving, or 

" Sammy Richards has drawn a clever picture, and 
you want to say something very nice about it. 

" ' Auntie/ ;t is, ' Sammy has done the most won- 
derful thing ! I never saw such taste as he has. It's 
really remarkable.' 

"Now it's well done and pleasing, but not remark- 
able, or wonderful, and you don't feel that it is, but 
can't say as pleasant things as you wish without say- 
ing more than you mean. It's just exaggerating a 
little. And the. next person says ' wonderful,' too, 
and the boys echo what you say; and, before you 
know it, poor Sammy has such a dose of flattery that 
it's no wonder if his head is a bit turned, and 
you are thinking he needn't be so very conceited 
about it. 

" There's nothing like truth and sincerity for keep- 
ing the balance of good-will. It is a hard lesson for 
little people, to say no more than they think, and yet 
be always kind about it. 

" I remember, when I was a girl, an old English- 
woman calling me to admire a bed-quilt she had been 
piecing,' which, to her, was the most wonderful thing 
in the world. The pink and purple blocks put my 
teeth on edge, with their discordant colors, but she 
went on with her admiration, winding up with, 1 Didn't 
I think it was pretty ? ' 

" I thought it was the ugliest thing I had ever seen, 



Papers on Children* s Etiquette. 81 

but, like a goose, not wanting to offend the old crea- 
ture, I said ' Yes.' And thinking of it makes me feel 
small to this day. 

" There was an up and down lie told about a bed- 
quilt, not to displease an old woman whom I was 
willing to tease and poke fun at in all sorts of ways. 
I might have said : 

u 6 Mrs. Simpson, your taste and mine don't exactly 
agree about shades ; I should like another color with 
the pink as well, but it is beautifully made,' and so 
saved her feelings and my own self-respect. 

" The smaller a lie the worse one feels over it. The 
French are called the politest and most compliment- 
ary nation in the world, and have been called insin- 
cere ; but I have noticed, among all those I ever met, 
a singular care to be quite frank, while saying the 
kindest things ; and in this respect they excel our 
people, 

" A French gentleman, used to very fine music, was 
making a country call once, when a vain mother man- 
aged that her daughter should be asked to sing. The 
girl consented very good-naturedly, and sang, vilely 
enough. The friends turned to hear what the gentle- 
man would say, expecting praise, of course, while I 
listened, wondering what he could possibly find to 
say for such very poor mu'sic. 

" I never shall forget how gracefully he managed it. 



82 



Behaving, or 



He did not say one word about the music at all, but, 
1 Miss Blank, your amiability in playing does credit 
to your execution ; and I wish every singer had it, for 
it would lend charm to greater talents.' 

" It was so kindly said it satisfied the feelings of 
mother and daughter ; and, if the silly girl was puffed 
up by vain compliments to think herself a singer, here 
was one person with too much respect for her and 
himself to lend a hand in it. 

" You see, a gentleman must have courage. One 
can't , speak the truth in small matters without it, 
though, if people saw the trouble that comes from the 
want of it, they would be a great deal more afraid of 
not telling it. 

" And, Ralph, remember that a half truth is worse 
than a lie. 

" Alfred's mother told him not to go to Dick Has- 
sell's house, for he was a bad boy, and she didn't 
want him to associate with such fellows. 

" Alfred came home one day from the direction of 
the Hassells', and his mother asked him, 6 Have you 
been to see Dick ? 1 

" Alfred said ' No,' as brave as you please, but I 
heard him telling you boys afterward that he didn't 
go to see Dick, but just strolled along that way, and 
Dick came out, and traded three lead-pencils and a 
shirt-stud for his new knife. 



Papers 011 Children's Etiquette. 83 



" You know it turned out afterward that the shirt- 
stud was stolen from his father's dressing-case. Dick 
was a very bad boy, but Alfred was quite as mean to 
pass off such a miserable falsehood on his mother. 
People usually tell lies to those they are most bound 
to respect and love. One thing ought to keep you 
from falsehood, if nothing else will: that there is noth- 
ing in the world so useless as a lie, for it is sure to be 
found out sooner or later. 

"Ralph, if you get into trouble, either tell the truth 
about it, or hold your tongue. It takes courage and 
endurance to do so, it is true, and is an accomplish- 
ment that many people would give fortunes to possess ; 
but I give it to you as a cheap recipe for making the 
best of a bad matter." 

"What must I do when people ask me questions 
they have no business to ? One day Mrs. Hassell 
asked me if my sister was going to be married ; and 
I knew mamma wouldn't wish me to tell her, and I 
couldn't say yes, and I didn't want to tell a story, or 
say it was none of her business, and I didn't know 
what to do, so I ran away," said poor little Ralph, 
hanging his honest head. 

" You might have done worse, Ralphie. You are 
not obliged to answer impertinent questions at all. 
You can't use your wits to better advantage than to 
make answers which, while they don't give any satis- 



8 4 



Behaving, or 



faction, are droll enough to carry themselves off. A 
gentleman never answers an impertinent question, 
whether he cares about the matter or not; but he 
turns it off in some light way, without offence. When 
you are quizzed about family matters it is a good 
answer to say, c Ask my mother and she'll tell you. 1 
That's always a safe one for a child, and nobody can 
find fault with it for being disrespectful. You see it 
takes courage in this world, Ralphie, to ' hold your 
own,' as folks say. Your opinions, your secrets, your 
affairs, are your own, and nobody has the right to 
meddle with them, except your father and mother, or 
those who stand in their place to you. 

" A gentleman takes care of his own rights as well 
as if they were another's. Giving them up, when 
there is occasion, is very different from being crowded 
out of them, because you are afraid to defend 
them. You should learn how to take care of your 
own little rights in play-ground or school ; assert them, 
and, what's more, try your best, and, if it comes to 
that, fight your best, to keep them. 

" There are worse faults a boy can commit than a 
square fight for just cause. There is enough shirking 
in this world, and yielding rights, by good people 
who ought to know better, because they will give 
away not.only their own, but what belongs to others, 



Papers on Children's Etiquette. 85 



because they are afraid to fight evil. We want in our 
boys the spirit that knows how to give up when it is 
wrong, but holds on when it is right, and never knows 
when it is beaten. 

" To be brave, to speak the truth, to be kind, and 
loyal to his country and to his God, this is the duty 
of a gentleman, Ralph. Is there anything here you 
cannot perform ?" 



VIII. 



miss charity's lady. 

1\ yTISS CHARITY WINCHESTER was an old- 
JLVJl fashioned lady, whom you would have liked 
very much to visit, for her beautiful old house and rose- 
garden, and the delightful way in which everybody 
was treated there. You would have dreaded her for 
her keen eyes that went right through you at first 
sight, and her sarcastic lip, that never cared whether 
you belonged to one of the leading families in town, 
or were everywhere admired for your beautiful man- 
ners, or if you won the first prize at commencement, 
or for any of these things which young ladies give 
themselves airs about. 

If you used fashionable slang, or said things with- 
out exactly meaning them, the fine old eyes, that 
were so clear and handsome, would grow hawkish, 
86 



Behaving, or Papers on Children's Etiquette. 87 

and you were not likely to accept an invitation to 
Summerest, her lovely place, again, in a hurry. Peo- 
ple either liked or disliked Miss Charity very much, 
but, as she didn't care an atom for either, they were 
usually very glad of her civility. * 

" I always thought Cornelia Dyce the most gener- 
ous creature in existence," a girl was saying once, 
" and now I know it." 

" Because she was willing to give ever so many cow 
and duck and dog and goose patterns for cotton 
flannel, in exchange for monthly rose cuttings you 
didn't know what to do with ? " asked Miss Winches- 
ter, in her cool way. " Well, there's a pair of you, 
but I never knew generosity going so cheap before." 

" Fanny Doremus is going to give me her receipt 
for making those chocolate eclairs , and one for Gra- 
ham gems, and they're both splendid!" a luckless one 
said, another time, in her hearing. 

" For Heaven's sake don't try them on us then ! " 
Miss Charity begged. " I'd rather have something 
we could eat ! " 

The young lady looked questions. 

" If it's a sunset baked, or a chip diamond with 
sifted sugar, it would be apt to disagree with us old 
people. Gems and splendors sound like hard 
living ! " 



88 



Behaving, or 



" What would you say ? " asked the fair one, rather 
sullenly. " I don't know what to call those Graham 
things." 

"They would pass for muffins with anybody who 
had ever seen a muffin before, provided they weren't 
too tough. If you can get a good receipt for choco- 
late eclairs you will do well. But you poor things are 
so deep in German and lectures on Chaucer you can't 
be expected to learn the proper names for common 
things." 

Then Mrs. Lavine, who edited the " Home Circle " 
for a weekly newspaper, and always talked with a 
gush, came over one day in her free and easy way, 
and, finding the doors open, walked through into the 
dining-room with, — 

" Miss Charity, I've brought you a mess of peas 
from our own garden." 

You should have seen the aghast look on Miss Win- 
chester's polite face, for she was always fearfully 
polite to Mrs. Lavine. "What do you expect me to 
do with them ? " she asked innocently. 

"Why, eat them, to be sure. Don't you like 
peas ? ' 3 

"Yes," hesitating. "But you said they were in a 
mess ! " with slight disgust. 

" Pshaw ! I brought you a pan of peas ? as nice as 



Papers on Children's Etiquette. 



8 9 



ever you saw," said Mrs. Lavine, looking for a place 
to sit down. 

" O, if you brought me some peas I'm sure it ought 
to be*kind of you ; but when you said a mess I thought 
you meant something we couldn't eat, and it nearly 
took my stomach away. Now Mrs. Lavine, why 
don't you take these peas over to Mrs. Haight, who 
has no garden ? She would be very glad of them, and 
would take your neighborliness at its full value all the 
same." 

" Miss Winchester ! how dared you ? " I asked, like 
a fool, after the visitor took herself and her peas 
away. 

" How could I go on hearing her talk about messes 
till she sickened me? I remembered my mother 
turning away a governess who talked Spanish and 
Latin like a grammar, because she would use such 
words. Mother said we might do without another 
language, but it was important we should know how 
to use our own as ladies ought to." 

" But you refused her peas ? " 

" 1 don't like the woman. She is artful, and I 
don't want to neighbor with her. Would you have 
me take anything from her, so that she could make 
another advance on the strength of it ! I am the 
older woman, and have lived here years longer. Her 



go 



Behaving^ or 



part was to wait for my civilities, not to thrust hers on 
me. I always hate new people who come with a gift 
in their hands. I want to see whether I like them 
enough to take their favors." 

" It was such a little thing ! " I pleaded, for if she 
tolerated you at all Miss Winchester liked great 
plainness of speech. " I was afraid you hurt her 
feelings." 

" There is great talk of hurting people's feelings 
nowadays, when it's only their vanity. Do you sup- 
pose I would have sent her away so if she came out of 
good will ? She was rude to old Mrs. Pettel the only 
time I called on her, and quite slighted the old lady 
to be polite to me. I always feel as if I should be 
getting the snubs if my name didn't happen to be 
Winchester, and my house quite as big as it is. We 
were never allowed to eat salt with a snob, or anyone 
we couldn't invite to our houses for the love of seeing 
them." 

" Aren't you too severe, Miss Winchester ? " 

" Is it severe to be sincere, Matilda? How do you 
feel about it? Because, if you like, I shall have to 
begin to flatter you to the blush. I could do it, you 
know." 

" It is so hard to be impolitely sincere to a lady." 
" Lady ! humph ! " and Miss Charity was dumb 
over the teaspoons she was counting. 



Papers on Children's Etiquette. 91 



" Don't you call Mrs. Lavine a lady ? " 

" As you are one by bringing up, and won't repeat 
what's said to you, frankly, I don't find her one. She 
is a woman girls like, because she is fond of petting 
everybody, and talks very sweetly about very fine 
things, and she dresses correctly ; but her enthusiasm 
don't sound real. A lady may wear imitation lace 
for convenience, but she never airs imitation senti- 
ment." 

" I wish I could know what you consider a lady." 

" I might begin by telling you what she isn't, and 
what she doesn't do. She don't walk without knock- 
ing into the house of a woman she has only seen 
once at her own house, even if they have met at par- 
ties. She won't call any one by Christian name till 
she is asked to take the privilege. And she won't 
make advances where it is her place to wait. You 
modern girls have such notions of freedom, that you 
are only content with upsetting things, and taking 
liberties, and you don't all outgrow it as women. I 
have heard boarding-school girls chaff a college pres- 
ident, and quiz a noted but nervous foreign musician 
and say pert things to a great senator, imagining they 
did themselves credit, and repeat their sauciness 
afterward with pride. 

" 6 Professor,' one of them said, with a flippant air, 
for which her mother ought to have taken her home 



92 Behaving or 

at once, ' isn't it tiresome to know as much as you 
do, and always have to carry it about with you ? 1 

" ' He was getting borous about his everlasting 
rocks,' she explained, in telling the story, 4 and I gave 
him notice to quit, as none of the rest dared to/ 

" ' 1 made him blush,' another boasted, after a pert 
repartee to a lawyer of twice her years. 

" 1 Was he blushing at you or for you ? 1 one of the 
others had the sense to retort. 

" Don't you hear of this sort of girl everywhere ? 
There are plenty with brains and a fair education, 
learned in their neighbors' conceit, who know nothing 
themselves, perhaps with a talent for art, but without 
a tithe of good breeding, who carry their offensive, 
stupid smartness wherever they go. They will invite 
a Grand Duke to skate with them, write to Bismarck 
for his autograph, say saucy things to a President, who 
usually tries to smile as if he liked it, ' answerback' 
the Holy Father himself when they get a presentation, 
and write letters to the newspapers about it after- 
ward. All which is beneath contempt. 

"They are no less condescending to their humble 
neighbors. Xo regard seems worth their while unless 
it is taken by audacity. 1 1 found the door of your 
heart open,' one of the charming minxes whom I was 
beginning to tolerate said to me once. 1 1 walked in 
without knocking, and I mean to stay.' 



Papers on Children^ Etiquette. 



93 



"'I'm determined you shall be devoted to me/ 
another said, setting her lips and looking straight into 
my face with her lovely blue eyes. This might be 
very nice to a school-boy or a young idiot who didn't 
know his or her own mind, but to make savings like 
this her stock in trade, renders a girl tiresome beyond 
relief. I'd as lief see a thunder-storm coming as one 
of these assured and overcoming chits who is always 
certain that with her looks and position and her con- 
descension she can make her civilities irresistible." 

" Miss Winchester, what is the secret of being a 
lady ? Is it to be true and fearless like a man, or to 
be just, or polite and charitable, and always giving up 
one's self for others?" 

Miss Winchester was darning a table-cloth. She 
always did the nice parts of housekeeping, to steady 
her nerves, she said, and she took time to answer. 

" The truest ladies I ever knew had two things so 
blended that one never knew which to be surest of 
their sincerity or their kindness. I never saw a lady, 
whether she was a girl or grown woman, who had not 
the faculty a wise writer calls 1 a genius for loving.' 
It was born in them, and grew with them. It is not 
that kind of ' I don't know what to do with myself ' 
feeling, that makes girls throw their arms round the 
nearest friend and smother her with kisses, that is 
feigning pretty jealousies of others, and saying 6 1 



94 Behaving, or 

.<* 

wish you could love me/ when one isn't in a mood for 
sweet stuff. The most loving-hearted girls don't show 
their feelings by any means. They do not love to 
kiss, or parade affection, but they are kind, O ! so 
kind, to their last breath and drop of strength, to 
those who need and deserve their care. Kind with 
the kindness that makes one wise for others' happi- 
ness, so that* mother looks into the mending basket 
to find that troublesome torn shirt-sleeve made whole, 
and the apron finished for Bobby, and father has the 
room quiet for along evening when he wants to read 
the debates, or to make calculations, and Jennie finds 
her rain-spoiled dress sponged and ironed fresh in the 
wardrobe, and Mrs. Brown over the way sees the 
children taken out of the house when she has a rack- 
ing headache, and the teacher knows who will run up 
the flounces and sew on buttons for the new suit she 
is hurrying to make out of school hours. There is 
nothing too homely or distasteful for this sort of girl to 
do, and she might take for her signature what I saw 
once in a kind letter of Elizabeth Stoddard's, the nov- 
elist, * Yours, to serve.' The kisses and the love- 
making may be shy enough with her, but the kindness 
is for everybody, and it runs very deep. Nothing 
draws on her help and sympathy so much as to need 
it most, to be without interest or attraction in any 
way. 



Papers o?i Children's Etiquette. 



95 



" The best recipe for going through life in an ex- 
quisite way, with beautiful manners, is to feel that 
everybody, no matter how rich or how poor, needs all 
the kindness they can get from others in the world. 
The greatest praise written of Madame Recamier, 
the most beautiful woman and complete lady of her 
own or any other known time, was this : " and Miss 
Winchester's face softened, and her voice fell to a 
moving key as she repeated softly the words I after- 
ward saw copied in an old black manuscript book of 
hers, and knew that she -had loved them. " ' Dis- 
grace and misfortune had for Madame Recamier the 
same sort of attraction that favor and success usually 
have for vulgar souls.' " 

There was the nature of a great lady. 

" Miss Winchester," I said, suddenly, " is that the 
reason you visit that queer, vulgar Mrs. Redward, who 
lives in such a scrambly sort of way that nobody 
cares to go near her ? " 

" No, indeed ! " she said, in utter surprise. " Mrs. 
Redward is one of the most interesting women I 
know. Trying to take care of six children, alone, 
with only her painting to depend on, worrying about 
rent and coal and bills, sitting up nights to do the 
sewing because she can't afford to pay these high 
seamstress' prices. No wonder she seems hard and 
coarse. She says she has had to let the bark grow to 



96 Behaving, or Papers on Children's Etiquette. 



keep her from getting rasped to death. She's as true 
as steel. She never would court me a bit, never pre- 
tended to like me till we found each other out, and I 
know we never told each other ' 1 love you/ in the 
world, but there isn't a woman who does me so much 
good as that cross, brave, kind, scolding creature 
Call her unrefined ? All my new books go over to 
her, and come back without a mark of wear. I send 
her roses, and she sits up at night after the rest are 
asleep to enjoy them — they rest her so. And, poor 
and overworked as she is, she alwavs has a hand out 
for somebody worse off. Uninteresting ! I wonder 
at you ! " 

Then / wondered if Miss Winchester, with her 
satin, and lightning eyes, had not something of Mad- 
ame Recamier's sympathy for misfortune, and I 
thought the aprons she had been sewing on were the 
same check as those the little Redward boys wore. 
At the same time came a thought of that clumsy, 
" bounceable " Mary Tucker, who never seemed to 
know how to behave when anyone took notice of her, 
and whom we snubbed and passed by at school con- 
tinually, till the poor girl moped in a settled disgrace. 
"She never had any bringing up," we said, but why 
couldn't we remember that, and let her associate with 
us till she got used to decent manners ? 



IX. 



AUNT CHARITY'S LADY, AGAIN. 

T Tt TE were a high and mighty set of girls in Haven- 
V V edge, Miss Charity saM, of good family, and 
prided ourselves on our families and bringing up not 
more than our ability to see into and through every- 
thing in the world. This quickness and sensibility we 
felt came of "race," and with it an inbred propriety 
and principle that made it next to impossible that one 
of our girls could do anything really to blame. Of 
course we had the high-spirited faults that belong to 
generous natures, and rather prided ourselves on them, 
as they were not common failings. There was a large 
circle of "good people'' in town, the Robbins, who 
came of old East India merchants, and had a wide 

97 



9 8 



Behaving, or 



house with an observatory, where the owners used to 
go and watch their ships coming in after a voyage, 
and the house was full of Indian, China and teak- 
wood furniture, and ivory carvings and silks and 
crapes hidden away in deep cabinets, and things 
went on in an easy handsome fashion, very pleasant 
to see. There were the minister's daughters, the 
Chauncys, the most beautiful girls in the county, 
whose mother was descended from a great beauty of 
colonial times, and was the finest lady in Haven- 
edge herself. They were not the richest family in 
town, but they made* it up in being more elegant and 
accomplished than anybody else, so that it was quite 
a favor to be admitted to their circle. And there 
was Mrs. Waite, the senator's widow, whose daugh- 
ter Henrietta, with her flashing brown eyes and thick 
hair, was like a very imperious young man in girl's 
dress, and who was always doing unheard of things 
in the most unconscious way. There were Commo- 
dore Bevan's young ladies, with their English mother, 
perfect pinks of manners, and, like all the navy peo- 
ple, disposed to hold themselves for all they were 
worth. And the Stuart Primes, Bowdoin College 
people, with a fortune fallen to them, which they 
carried as if born to an earldom at least. My father 
was Chief-Justice, and I went everywhere, especially 



Papers on Children! s Etiquette, 99 



as my great, great grandfather happened to be one of 
those poor gentlefolks who came over here in 1600 
to make a living, as he couldn't in England. But we 
never think of those drawbacks now. 

We girls all went to a select school, where there 
was fully as much attention paid to our sitting and 
standing and hemstitching and embroidery, as there 
was to our history and translation, in which we were 
obliged to be very thorough, so that you may believe 
we had an education to be glad of. We were fool- 
ish enough, to be proud of it, and to value our- 
selves on our thorough studies and accomplishments, 
as what people of ordinary minds and sensibilities 
never could pretend to. We drew and painted in 
water colors, for each other's albums, and em- 
broidered chairs in fine wool, not the coarse Berlin 
work you waste your time with nowadays, and we 
copied verses in delicate regular hands, and trans- 
ferred lace, and read Italian and sketched, and made 
our own linen, in the most elegant and particular 
fashion. One thing was different from the habits of 
young ladies now : we were never idle an instant. 
There were fewer novels and papers to read, and less 
of this endless rehearsing and planning, without which 
you can get nothing done, and we were never so 
tired, after planning a charity concert or lawn party, 



lOO 



Behaving, or 



that we had to gossip a whole evening with our hands 
folded. When we ran in to see each other, or spent 
the afternoon in conclave, out came the scrap of em- 
broidery, or the fancy knitting, or the chainweaving, 
and the pretty work went on as fast as our tongues. 
How we looked down on people who were not so * 
judicious and clever as ourselves ! It was all right, 
and a very good example to be busy and tasteful, and 
it is a bad falling off, that girls are not so thrifty any 
more, but there was no occasion for us to be proud of 
our good habits. How could we have helped being 
what we were, with mothers and teachers, and all 
that care and money could do for us ? 

Mrs. Acton, our teacher, was very particular whom 
she admitted to her school, and we were curious to 
see the new scholar coming in April. She was a 
niece of Mrs. Ellis, who lived in the large house over- 
looking the bay, hidden from the road by its thicket 
of a flower garden. Our mothers remembered Mrs. 
Ellis' sister, the delicate, devoted woman who left the 
city with her bankrupt husband and went to live with 
him on a farm in Maine, away from anybody, to be 
out of sight of friends who had known them in better 
days. They had never done well, and ^ Mrs. Ellis, 
childless, widowed and alone, offered to take the 
second daughter and educate her. The little town 



Papers on Children's Etiquette. 101 

where the girl came from was too small to be down 
on the map, and Mrs. Ellis mentioned, in a call on 
my mother, that Hannah had never attended any 
school save a district school in the winter. We 
would hardly have liked such a companion on any 
other account, but as Mrs. Ellis' niece, and coming 
from one of the best families in town we could do no 
less than admit her and make her welcome. Our 
mothers had a kindness for the girl from the begin- 
ning, as the daughter of a schoolmate whom they 
dearly loved in the old days, and her want of advan- 
tages with them was only a reason for more tender- 
ness when they looked at their own favored girls. 

But of all unpleasant impressions that girl had the 
luck to carry the worst when we saw her. She was 
larger than any of us, tall, long armed, with a figure 
that was all corners, and took up more room than any- 
one else, because she never knew what to do with her 
hands "and feet. It seemed, we said, as if she had 
always lived out of doors. She was slow, awkward, 
and because she was desperately afraid of doing the 
wrong thing, and didn't know what was right, she 
managed to get in the way more and, make worse 
blunders, than anybody I ever saw. She had been 
brought up in a rude back-country place, with a dis- 
couraged, shiftless father, who never wanted his chil- 



102 



Behaving, or 



dren to go into society as they might have done, which 
would have worn a little cf the uncouthness off ; and 
the mother was too weak and overworked to do more 
than sigh bver the privileges her children were 
denied. 

My mother invited her one evening to meet some 
of the other girls, and as it was frosty we had the 
last molasses candy of the season for a treat, brought 
round about eight o'clock, cut up like caramel, in an 
old China plate. Hannah had been shy all the even- 
ing, not venturing out of her seat, but mother was 
talking to her by the fire, and she was getting on well 
enough, till the candy came. She didn't know what 
to do with it. It was too hard to nibble, as she tried 
at first ; then, seeing that the rest of us popped the bits 
into our mouths whole, she did the same, but at first 
she was afraid to open her mouth wide enough for it, 
and once in, a dreadful spasm of nervousness, 
bashfulness and awkwardness came over her, and the 
candy stuck in her teeth, and she sat, feeling as if 
she couldn't move her jaws, in an agony of embar- 
rassment. Don't laugh, for this is a real thing I'm 
telling, and it was no laughing matter to poor Hannah. 
Mother didn't notice, but chatted away over her red 
knitting, once in a while waiting for an answer. For 
awhile the unlucky girl made nods and mumbles, 



Papers on Children's Etiquette. 103 

though she knew it was rude, and mother noticed, but 
passed it over as bashfulness. At last, however, 
came a question which required an answer. Mother 
waited, looking directly at Hannah, still dumb with 
that molasses candy. She tried to choke it down, 
tried to speak in spite of it, but her mouth was 
paralyzed with fright : she could only shake her head 
and point to her lips in mute distress. Mother could 
not understand at all, but, like the true lady she was, 
saw that something mortified the poor girl, and she 
went on as if nothing was amiss, taking care not to 
ask questions till Hannah spoke of her own accord. 
The dreadful candy melted of course in time, and the 
big child of eighteen confessed, " The candy stuck so, 
I couldn't speak." Blunt, wasn't it ? but it came with 
such frankness, and . honest blushes, that it gave 
mother a sort of pity for the innocent, clumsy crea- 
ture. That was only one of her blunders. She 
didn't seem to know what to say to the simplest ques- 
tions, and after a long pause, in which she seemed to 
be making up some fine speech, would utter the flat- 
test, stupidest replies that made one soon give over 
trying to talk to her. She was not a pleasant neigh- 
bor in school, she took up so much room, and would 
lean against one in class without knowing it, and her 
warm weight was always drooping forward, or " lop- 



io4 



Behaving, or 



ping round, " as country folks say, and she took her 
handkerchief out in the most unconcerned way on 
the least occasion, and coughed and sneezed so with- 
out the least restraint that we took quite a prejudice 
against her. We were trained to be discreet about 
these necessary things, and never to take out a hand- 
kerchief except in private, and if a cough or sneeze 
could not be stifled, to take it and ourselves out of 
the way at 'once. 

We were more particular and intolerant about 
these nice points then than we were when quite 
grown, for children and girls are often less able to 
make allowance than older persons who know how 
easy it is to offend. Gradually w r e slighted the girl 
and shook her off, in a way that we thought quite 
justifiable. She lived among us but not of us, and in 
her backwoods life I doubt if she was so thoroughly 
left to herself. We could not help it, we agreed, we 
could not associate with any one so deficient, and 
with whom there could not be the slightest sympathy, 
or liking in common. She was so childish, or else so 
serious, about nothing. We handed round the very 
original remark she made to one of us once, when we 
went to dine with Mrs. Ellis. There was company 
from Litchfield, and we had been airing our happiest 
manners and^ most elegant ways, for we had our 



Papers on Children's Etiquette. 



assortment, manners for relations, and for school, 
and for strangers, though we were always strictly 
well-behaved girls, I hope, or had the name of being 
so. Hannah sat quite crushed and silent through 
the dinner, doing everything in her plain matter-of- 
fact way, with no air at all, and taking a second plate 
of pudding, which none of us would have done for 
the world. It would look as if we cared for eating, 
and nothing was so unbecoming to a young lady. 
After dinner, she went into the parlor with the rest of 
us, and took her seat at once in the bay-window, 
behind the curtain, a habit which we disliked espe- 
cially, it looked so shy, or so sly, we could not quite 
tell which. Why couldn't she exert herself a little 
and be sociable like other folks ? It was unkind, put- 
ting all the burden of entertaining her on some one 
else all the time. Or if she wanted to hear and criti- 
cise without being seen, that spoiled any good time 
where she might be. After a while I stole up to her 
corner to look out on the bay where the crescent moon 
was hanging, clear and lovely. 

" Haven't you anything to say, Hannah?" I said, 
to shake her up, as we phrased it. 

She made an effort to rouse herself, seemed to 
search her wits, and tried two or three times to open 
her mouth. At last : 



io6 



Behaving, or 



"Are — you — fond — of — the — moon ? " she asked, 

in such a dry tone that it seemed to me as if she was 
offering it to me like cheese. 

"No, thank you," I said, passing my fine scented 
handkerchief over my lips, to brush away the disa- 
greeable idea by its fragrance, "unless it is with 
apple pie." 

She saw the point in a moment. She grew more 
chalky pale, and her eyes fixed themselves on my 
pretty handkerchief, with an expression more like a 
dead fish, I thought, than ever. I hurried away, but 
some one else had seen the look on Hannah's face, 
and felt moved to pity. 

Lucy Alvord, our finely trained Lucy, so arch, girl- 
ish, womanly, so graceful in company — I don't 
always call it " society," when I think of those times, 
— so accomplished, so simple and quick to divine the 
feelings of those about her, caught that sad look. 
She saw it wander as if fascinated to the puffs and 
bows of my pretty rose-colored dress, and glance at 
her own plain dark one, as nice as mine, for Mrs. 
Ellis dressed her, but without any of those gayeties 
girls delight in ■ which, the dressmaker said, really 
didn't seem to be in her style at all. Then Hannah 
fixed her hands primly in her lap, and went on with her 
dull amusement, looking out of the window. In a 



Papers on Children's Etiquette. 107 



few minutes she opened a side window and slipped 
out, and Lucy stole after her. 

She went off to the foot of the garden, farthest 
from the house, and hidden from it by tall shrubs, 
where the pale roses were sweet in the evening light. 
Lucy stopped behind a trellis and watched her, not 
unkindly. The strange girl put her head down 
against the stone coping of the wail, and kept it 
there the longest while hidden on her arm. She did 
not cry, and when she lifted it there were no traces 
of tears, only a wistful regret and patience, as if she 
had taken a resolve to carry her heavy trouble with- 
out complaining. Then she went softly about the 
walk, piping to some young birds in a tree that 
seemed to know her and allow her to feed them, and 
petting the house cat which came out after her and 
rubbed against her dress. 

"You don't mind, old Kitty, do you?" she said, 
aloud, lifting it to stroke it and lay her cheek against 
its soft fur. " My one friend," she said in the same 
patient simple way, walking up and down with it, 
stopping to smell the roses and kiss the sweetest of 
them, as if she was paying them homage. 

She was another creature, in this lonely corner of 
the garden, alone, as she fancied. Her movements, 
commonly so uncertain and heavy, were gentle and 



ioS 



Behaving^ or 



smooth, her face sad, with the shadow yet resting on 
it, but clear of being watched or observed, and the 
way she bent to the cat or the roses had a homely 
grace as far from coarseness as it was from elegance. 
To stay watching her a single instant longer, when 
she thought herself alone, would have been unpar- 
donable in Lucy's eyes, and she stole upon her 
delicately, shaking a rose over her head in girlish 
fashion. t 

" Guess who holds the rose ? " she cried softly. 

Hannah turned, and the light was dying out of her 
face, but Lucy was determined not to lose it if she 
could help it. There was something interesting 
about the Ellis girl, after ail. She had feelings, 
probably, being human, and might feel as w r ell as 
finer people when she had pins stuck into her. Her 
manner was nice and kind when she was by herself, 
and perhaps there might be something to her after 
all. 

So Lucv tried a little charm she had, that had 
been known before to drive baslifulness away, and 
thaw frozen natures. It was a very unconscious 
secret. She only treated people just like herself, in 
a quiet matter-of-course way, not familiar, but as if 
she had been on speaking terms with them all her 
life. It worked well now, for Hannah found she was 



Papers on Children's Etiquette. 109 

being talked to without the trouble of having, to 
answer, till she forgot her dread. 

" Let's sit down on this wall, and watch the ships 
a minute. Won't you spoil your dress if you don't 
lift it ? " gathering her own skirts up daintily, as she 
sprang to her place. " I like to see the white edging 
peep out under a dress, so ladyish and neat. Mother 
says I think more of my white skirts than I do of my 
dresses." 

She said it to make talk, more than anything else, 
but the next minute she was sorry, when she saw how 
veiy plain Hannah's skirts were, with none of the 
frills and pearled tatting' that we delighted in. She 
turned the talk as quickly as she could, making a 
note however for Hannah's benefit. She gathered 
roses growing over the wall, and put one in her hair 
with a turn of the hand, and offered some to Hannah. 
She drew back. 

" Not for me. They will do for you, but they 
wouldn't for me." 

" Why not for you as well as for me ? " asked Lucy, 
wondering. 

"I never can bear to wear roses," Hannah owned, 
dropping her voice, "I'm so dreadfully plain." 

"Nonsense," said Lucy, — she could say "non- 
sense " in the sweetest tender way — "nobody is plain, 



no Behaving, or 

unless they allow themselves to be. You don't know 
yourself when you say so. 1*11 show you the differ- 
ence ; let me loosen this hair — there ! " and a warm 
deep pink rose was hanging from a braid behind 
Hannah's ears, and another at her throat. It was a 
touch that made her look girlish and fresh, with the 
color rising in her cheeks at the daring, and call 
attention to herself. 

"Aren't you coming in?" said Lucy, rising to go 
"Old Mrs. Ward was saying she knew your mother 
years ago, and hadn't had a chance to speak to you. 
It would be a charity for you to go and make yourself 
pleasant to her." 

Hannah looked amazed at the idea of her making 
herself agreeable to anybody, 

" I never know what to say to anyone," she con- 
fessed. 

"Just go and sit down by her, the first chance, and 
tell her Lucy Alvord said she was an old friend of 
my mother's, and I wished she would let me know 
her too. I should say I knew all there was to be 
said about my mother now, but I wanted something 
fresh about her, such as Mrs. Ward could give me. 
It wouldn't be pleasant to remind her of her age by 
saying, as a girl did once, she wanted some old news 
of her mother. Then I might go on talking, T should 



Papers on Children's Etiquette. in 



think, about fifteen minutes, with that little send-off, 
and if I didn't ask her questions in a string, or act as 
if I wanted to get away, and let her talk all she 
wished without interrupting her, she would go away 
feeling that I was a very agreeable young lady. Only 
I should tell her something to make her laugh, for 
old ladies like to have young ones amuse them, and 
they dearly love funny stories." 

" I wish somebody was always by to tell me what 
to say," said Hannah, ruefully. "I don't know what 
would be interesting, and I get nervous and my wits 
fly, and I'm just as likely as not to say the first 
stupid, foolish thing that comes into my head." 

" Don't you ever have brilliant conversations with 
yourself, afterwards, Hannah," asked Lucy gravely, 
" and think of all the smart things you might have 
said, and feel so sorry you can't try over again? I 
often do, but it will come out sooner or later, and it 
will with you. Well, we're not that sort of people 
who, the more they talk, the less they say." 

This whimsical bit of consolation did Hannah a 
world of good, as nonsense often does, where sober 
reason fails. She raised courage to sit down by Mrs. 
Ward, and though she sat in a heap, and joined her 
hands together as if they couldn't lie any other way, 
still it was a beginning, and she felt greatly encour- 



112 



Behaving^ or 



aged about it. For once in her life, she had known 
exactly what to do, and felt sure she was doing it, 
which settles nerves and fidgets better than anything. 

The next day, Lucy went over to the Ellis garden, 
for a chat and lounge on the stone wall, which she 
declared was pleasanter than their own, at least she 
professed to want a change of air. And as she had 
a new pattern for skirt trimming, very pretty and 
very easy, it was natural she should offer to show 
Hannah how to make it, and propose that they 
should begin a piece at the same time. Hannah's 
hands were, not to say soiled, but tinged from the 
slate in school. 

" I want to show you some of cousin Margaret's 
work," said the wise Lucy. " She always has her 
work so white, it looks as nice as when it first came 
off the spool. I'm trying to keep mine so. Here is 
the first piece I ever did. Mother makes me keep it, 
to show how work ought not to look,'' 5 and she held 
up a discolored bit that would tempt no one to 
handle it. 

"I never did much fancy work," said Hannah rue- 
ful!}', "but I never could keep it nice." 

"Margaret has let me into the secret of it. You 
want to wash your hands every time you sit down to 
work, with nail brush and soap, and keep the thread 



Papers on Children's Etiquette, 113 



and work in a clean handkerchief, and when your 
hands grow moist, rub them with a few drops of 
cologne, or dust them with French powder." 

The hint .was not lost on Hannah, whose hands 
after that were scrupulously and delightfully clean, a 
beauty school-girls cannot always boast. 

" Have many of the girls called on you yet ? " Lucy 
asked, when they were deep in picot and pearl stitch. 
"I'm afraid you find it lonesome — in Deephaven." 

" I suppose they don't care to call 011 me," Hannah 
said, ingenuously. " I know I'm different from the 
girls here, and I, don't expect it. But it is very dull." 

" How do you mean you are different ? " asked 
Lucy softly. 

"You can see, can't you? I'm awkward and 
queer," said Hannah, looking up with a hope of con- 
tradiction in her eyes. It was a pardonable weak- 
ness, if it could be called so hard a name. 

Brave Lucy. She was the kindest soul that ever 
breathed, but she could not palter with a fact or 
insult Hannah's good sense by denying what was too 
plainly true. She hesitated a minute, but the words 
came as a matter of course. 

"You do act queerly, sometimes, but I don't know 
anything easier than for you to learn to be as nice as 
anybody." 



ii4 



Behaving, or 



It was said so simply that it took away the sting. 
The next minute, how glad Hannah was she had 
spoken so frankly, 

"Could T learn to be like the rest?" she asked 
eagerly. " I wish I had anybody to show me. I 
feel somehow as, if I could be like folks, if I had the 
chance, if some one would take the pains to teach 
me." 

"I'll teach you all I know, which is more than I 
do" said Lucy m her droll fashion. " There ! If 
you'll let me tell you a thousand times, what to do 
and what not to do, till you are sick of it, and if you 
won't say anything about pains or trouble, I don't 
mind giving you the benefit of mother's training. 
You see we've been taught how to sit, and stand, and 
talk, and behave ourselves, since we were in short 
frocks, and it's ground into us — what we have 
learned." 

"I can't wait years to learn," said Hannah, rue- 
fully. " I need to know all these things at once." 

" Well, I should think, being older, you could take 
them easier than we did. Besides, manners, like 
measles, are catching." 

"'Oh," implored Hannah, with a face of the deep- 
est gravity and earnestness, " would you have the kind- 
ness to go over me and tell me all my defects and 



Papers on Children's Etiquette. 



"5 



just what I need to cure them? I should be so 
thankful. I should worship anyone who would do 
that for me." 

Our Lucy was too sincere herself not to enter into 
the spirit of Hannah's trouble. She saw that the 
girl's rough manners were spoiling her happiness, and 
likely to lose her every friend she might have. There 
was no trifling with such a case. She did not laugh, 
or giggle, or shrink, as many girls would have done, 
in dread of hurting Hannah's feelings, and try to 
make her think she was well enough as she was. 
She knew she would give next to everything she had, 
if any one would do for her what Hannah asked, if 
she needed it as badly. So they went at the work of 
criticism in too great earnestness to think of feelings. 

"You must try to look different," Lucy began. 
" Don't look as if you hadn't a friend in the world, 
because if you haven't you don't want everybody to 
know it. And you don't want to smile every time 
you're spoken to, or to move your hands and feet. 
And you must learn to say something besides ' Yes 
mam' and 1 no mam,' and 6 1 suppose so.' And you 
don't want to be so long getting out what you want to 
say, and you needn't jerk your words, as if you had to 
speak in a flash. And if I were you, I would let 
down the side of my dress so that it would hang 



116 Behaving, or 

it- 
even, and put a new binding on the cuff. Mother 
says seamstresses always have frayed edges to their 
gowns, because they are so busy about other folks 7 
sewing they can't do anything for themselves, but 
they are the only ones who have an excuse for it. And 
if you should take a good look in the big glass every 
day, I think you would find out several matters that I 
wouldn't have to tell you. And don't say wash-dish, 
because there are different names for the different 
sorts of dishes ; call it a wash-basin. And you don't 
want to say Saint John every time, but speak it soft 
and lightly, S'nt John. If you can remember all that 
with once telling, you will have the whole in less than 
a month." 

After that, Lucy had Hannah so much we began 
to wonder what she could see in the girl. " You will 
see too, some day," she would say with her sweet 
smile and arch toss of the head, for there was no 
denying Lucy was airy, in a charming way. She was 
training Hannah in those hundred little things that 
.girls take from each other. For an opening she went 
over to Hannah with a very pretty easy pattern for 
skirt trimming she was going to make herself, and 
put Hannah up to working some like it with her. 
Lucy not only^showed her How to take the stitch, but 
insisted on washing her own fingers before they 



Papers on Children's Etiquette. 117 



began, and of course had Hannah do the same, and 
put cologne on her hands to keep them from getting 
moist and soiling the thread, and taught her to keep 
the work in a fresh handkerchief, for fear of dust, 
and took out some of her cousin Margaret's beautiful 
tatting lace, perfectly white and neat, and some of 
the maid's beginning, dark with careless handling 
that she might see and feel the difference. Hannah 
took the notion of being dainty about her hands and 
wrist ruffles directly. It was Lucy who showed her 
how Mrs. Howland from Boston, who had such be- 
witching style, taught the girls to enter a room as 
French ladies do it and rehearsed the motions for 
fun, till Hannah was perfect in it. And what should 
Hannah do one evening, emboldened by her success, 
but surprise her aunt who was having callers by a 
display of such unheard-of manners as utterly aston- 
ished and delighted that lady. Lucy insisted on 
dressing Hannah for tableaux one night at her own 
house, and with clever hairdressing and costuming 
made her so nearly pretty that the girl took a respect 
for herself for the first time in her life. Lucy taught 
her how to make a bow properly and pin it on, how to 
. carry her hands, and to sit with her feet under her 
gown, and what nothings to use in opening conver- 
sation, in short, how to act "like folks." 



u8 



Behaving, or 



I went away to Boston, about the time the lessons 
began, and was gone two years, when one clay Aunt 
Sturtevant came home with a surprise for me. She 
had met Mrs. Ellis and her delightful niece on the 
street, and they were coming to lunch, and to tell me 
the Havenedge news. 

" Delightful niece," I said to myself. " It must be 
on her husband's side of the family, then." 

" She has been abroad, by the way she gets out cf 
a carriage," I thought, catching a glimpse cf them as 
they drove up. "I didn't think a Havenedge girl 
could put on as much style." 

Style! The word is spoiled to express the walk 
and bearing of the lovely girl who came into the 
room directly, she moved so easily and softly, without 
affectations or mincing, free and direct in her move- 
ments, but gloriously graceful and sure. Aunt Stur- 
tevant said it was a pleasure to see her come into a 
room and sit down on a sofa. She floated when she 
walked, with firm smooth steps, and when she took a 
seat the lines of her dress flowed about her as if 
copied from a picture. The first thing that came 
into my head was, " She looks as if she had ten thou- 
sand a year." Ten thousand meant more then than 
it does now. There was a bright, generous, assured air, 
about her, as if born to the command and ease cf 



papers on Children's Etiquette. 



119 



wealth. The next moment I knew her, and showed 
my surprise a little. 

"Ah, Chat, dear," she said archly, coloring a little, 
"you don't need to alter so that your friends won't 
know you," and that was all she ever said about the 
change, for she had a pretty pride of her own that 
would not tolerate having her qualities talked over in 
her presence. She wasn't quite handsome, but she 
had the simplest and most superb manners I ever 
saw. 

Mrs. Ellis was very proud of her, and took her 
everywhere that season, and the Harvard Students 
we met called her "the elegant Ellis." Everything 
she did, from handing a book or fingering the piano, 
to drawing out a shy, unappreciated girl or boy, or 
man for that matter, was done so simply and delight- 
fully that it seemed the only way to do it. 

She was very bright and sensitive, but very igno- 
rant, when she came to Havenedge, and she was so 
nervous that she couldn't do as well as she knew how. 
She would have stayed so, if Lucy hadn't had the 
charity and candor to tell her what was wanting, and 
help her to correct her faults. I must tell you more 
about "the elegant Ellis," sometime, and you'll 
agree that it was hard to tell which was truest lady. 
Lucy or Lucy's pupil. 



XI. 



WITH YOUNGER CHILDREN. 

AN anxious mother writes that she hopes some- 
thing will be said to show the older children 
how to amuse their brothers and sisters. The sug- 
gestion is gladly followed, for the sake of the mothers 
whom it may relieve, the small ones who will be 
better cared for, and the big brothers and sisters who 
may find their work lightened. For it is hard work 
to take care" of little children, and I for one would 
rather do the closest day's work that ever befel me in 
any other shape than watch and amuse a child for 
half a day, as far as fatigue goes. Children, it takes 
the light heart and the strength of the older genera- 
tion to get you ready to live, and then you sally forth 

120 



Papers on Children's Etiquette. 



121 



to enjoy life while we old -folks have nothing left but 
to Creep away in our graves and rest. You don't 
know, you don't care. But when you have the 
chance of helping an older person, by taking a care, 
or running an errand, do it freely, for you know 
neither how great the burden is, nor how a little lift 
relieves it. Perhaps it does not sound heroic, or fine, 
to take the children out of the way, and keep them out 
of harm and in a pleasant temper an hour or two, but 
you are doing quite as much and as worthy work as 
the girl who shuts herself up to practice brilliant 
music or the gifted one who paints in. water color and 
makes the ten dollar bills for herself by it. There is 
a wonderful amount of cleverness in the world among 
great and small, but there isn't so much help as there 
ought to be with it. So, when you are ambitious to 
make beautiful toilet sets and fern pieces and spatter- 
work, so that your table at the fair will take in as 
much money as larger ones, or if you sigh to be learn* 
ing telegraphy, or design, like other girls you know 
who are so independent already, remember, when the 
call comes for you to lay these things aside for home- 
duties without a grain of pleasure or credit in them 
in your eyes, that no work in the world tells as 
much for others, or is half as valuable. Nothing 
makes such contented, honored women as to know 



122 



Behaving, or 



how to do all these mean and tiresome things as well 
as the bright and entertaining ones. What you may 
find in this short lesson, is worth all the rest I have 
told you, put together. 

You must learn how to take care of children and 
amuse them to make it pleasant for them and yourself. 
The best feeling in the world is thrown away if you 
don't know how to show it. If there is a baby to 
keep for an hour, find out whether it has been asleep 
lately, or if it is near its time for taking a nap. If it 
is growing tired, and fretful, very likely it needs to 
sleep, whether it wants to or not. Begin by making 
the little thing comfortable, if you want any comfort 
with it. See if .its feet and hands are warm, and its 
little body about the waist. Babies are often chilly 
in warm weather, because the air creeps under their 
clothes, and it never fails to make them cross. Then 
you want to rub its little body gently till it grows 
warm, not rubbing briskly but moving your hand 
softly, and letting it lie warm on the skin. If the 
baby is too heated, aud the drops are about its chin, 
and its face flushed, bathe it gently about the neck 
with fine soap and tepid water, passing the sponge 
and lather gently under its chin and behind its ears. 
Babies love to be bathed three or four times a day in 
warm weather. But you must be careful to keep it 



Papers on Children's Etiquette, 123 



out of a draught, for the fine thread of air that comes 
' from the crack of a door can chill a baby when it is 
being washed, enough to bring on serious conse- 
quences. Remember when your baby sneezes, it is 
getting too cold, and for a baby to be chilly means a 
stomachache or headache at once. You want to 
take pride in having your baby comfortable and well- 
kept while it is with you. 

The only notion some people have of amusing a 
baby is to toss and bounce it till it gives up crying 
for want of strength and goes to sleep, as tired out as 
you are after a long, leg-aching walk. A baby's* life 
is one of a good deal of suffering at best, and you 
have no idea how it can be tormented by rough 
handling and loud noise, and bright light in its 
eyes and getting too cold or too warm, with not a 
hand to help itself. Now a baby likes to be petted 
much as a kitten does, and if you get it warm and 
snug and comfortable it will thank you as pleasantly 
as a kitten; let this advice guide you never to toss 
or frolic with a baby unless it shows signs of feeling 
like it, by crowing or springing as it will when it feels 
well enough for fun. Otherwise, it prefers to lie on 
the lap and be stroked and have its back rubbed, 
which is a perfect luxury to all babies, or to be sung 
to, not loud, but in soft sweet tunes, crooned over it. 



124 



Behaving, or 



If it is rebellious at leaving mamma and screams, wet 
a handkerchief in water warm enough to feel pleasant 
to your own eyelids, and blindfold the little rebel with 
it, laying a soft towel over the whole head to keep it 
warm. I have blindfolded my baby this way many a 
time and quieted him in two or three minutes. It is 
one of the best ways of soothing a child off to sleep, 
for it cools its little irritable brains and quiets its 
nerves. The baby will fight against it lustily for a 
minute or two, but when it finds it can't get the 
bandage off, it gives up, and very soon will be cooing 
itself to sleep. If you should sing to it while quiet 
this way and loosen the handkerchief gently, you will 
find under it a baby thoroughly tranquil and good- 
humored, ready for play or such conversation as you 
may attempt. An amusement my baby 1 used to 
relish very much, that I called his incantation, was to 
lay him on the bed, flat on his back, and stroke him 
with both hands from head to foot over his long 
gown, singing to a monotonous tune : 

"His mother will smooth him down, smooth him down, 
smooth him down" a performance that used to send 
him off in shrieks of delight. I suppose it was 
soothing to him, and suited his sense of the gro- 
tesque, for babies have a strong sense of the absurd. 
Then they love to have something to do, a spray of 



Papers on Children's Etiquette. 125 



leaves to strip, or a flower to pick to pieces or a 
heap of sand or bran on a newspaper .to poke in, or a 
ball to roll with somebody to make up the game. To 
save yourself running to pick it up, make a return 
ball, with string enough fastened to one side to draw 
it back, no matter what corner it rolls to. A dog or 
cat, covered with an old scrap of fur and stuffed with 
down will be a favorite plaything, and a heap of fine 
paper clippings that blow and scatter when it grabs 
them will amuse a child highly. Don't feed it, unless 
you are told to, or it is time for its dinner. But you 
may give a baby and the whole house relief, when it is 
fretful, from teething, by picking the tiniest fragments 
of ice off a lump with a pin and putting them in its 
mouth. A wise doctor told me to do this, and it 
made one baby happy through his trying time anyhow. 

The bits must not be any thicker than the pin 
itself, so as to melt immediately in its mouth, and it 
will cool the swollen fevered gums and stop its fret- 
ting like magic. Be patient with the baby while it is 
teething. Do you know its little gums ache then just^ 
as a boil does when it is coming on ? and most of you 
know how that feels. The doctor said it was safe to 
give a baby all the ice it would eat in fine bits, for it 
melted and was warm water before it was swallowed, 
and could do no harm, but much good. 



126 



Behaving, or 



But it isn't always the baby you are called to amuse. 
There are such members of society as six-year-olds 
as I painfully know, for such an one has just laid his 
head on the pillow in the room across the hall. The 
six-year-olds have such life and spirits they can run 
us grown people off our feet, and race us out of 
breath, and call for stories till one's brains give out, 
worse than with making conversation for a room full 
of company. I have to devise and search and con- 
trive to be good company for those lively wits and 
limbs asleep there on mamma's bed, after a day's 
tramp following a hunting party, half way to Mamaro- 
neck 1, and over by the beach clinnerless but for some 
apples he found in the wood. A square of silver 
perforated board and a worsted needle full of pink 
zephyr used to keep the little fingers busy, on rainy 
days, and you will find that children four years old 
can work their patterns for a shaving-case or a match- 
lighter, with great satisfaction, particularly if it is to 
be a "s'prise" for somebody at Christmas. That 
same small boy rips most of his mother's old seams 
for her, and never was known to cut a stitch, or to 
grumble over the work if he could have a cheerful 
talk thrown in. 

Children like to be useful, and feel that they are 
accomplishing something, and they can do more than 



Papers on Children^ Etiquette. 127 

we suppose, if they only have somebody to work with 
them/ So find something for your little folks to do, 
if it is picking -up apples or pulling weeds with you, or 
folding newspapers, or picking and shelling peas and 
berries or the currants for cake. They have sense 
enough for it, only you must not keep them long at 
one thing, unless of their own accord. Twenty min- 
utes is a long time for them to work, and you will be 
wise in suggesting something new as soon as the signs 
of weariness begin. Always give them a little task, 
however, that they must finish, and put them on their 
pride about it, so that they will learn steadiness by 
degrees. 

Then do let them play. If they are noisy 
and troublesome turn them out-of-doors, and let 
them romp. They need not be rude if they do romp. 
And dance with them. I never saw a child that did 
not love to have its hands taken by an older one, and 
swing and hop round to a tune, the faster the better. 
Sawing wood, by crossing the wrists and taking 
hands, and drawing them back and forth, or wringing 
the dish-cloth, with arms over head, as every child 
knows, is fun, but bean-bags are, perhaps, the best 
fun for small people. They can catch a bag better 
than a ball, and it does not give such hard knocks. 
Dressing up in a cocked hat, sash and epaulettes cut 



128 



Behaving, or 



out of newspapers, has all the delight of a masquer- 
ade to the small fry. I know of npthing so absolutely 
exciting as painting small faces with colored crayons, 
with a cast-off rooster's feather in the hair, a shawl 
for a blanket, and playing Indian in earnest. Meas- 
uring heights against the door is always entertaining, 
so is playing postman with a bag of letters. But 
there are some pleasant games that will better amuse 
a -quiet hour. 

The boys in some of the West Side wards in New 
York, -treat the town to wonderful processions 
Thanksgiving mornings, that recall the ancient 
masques or mummery of old English times. They 
turn out in bands of fifty or a hundred, divided into 
companies, in different costumes. Indians, Brother 
Jonathans, with striped coats of bed ticking, and tall 
white hats, powdered for the occasion. Dutchmen 
with red waistcoats and stuffed figures, plantation 
negroes and military. Where all the war-paint and 
feathers come from is past telling, but it is one proof 
of a universal taste among small fry, and those not 
so small, for dressing up in any character not their 
own. 

If you undertake any such dramatics, a soft brick 
powdered will yield rouge for several fierce Comanches, 
and scalps of raveled hemp cord will furnish broom- 



Papers on Children s Etiquette. 129 



stick larrces. Two or three masks, such as sell in 
•toy-shops for five cents, will be^nvaluable. 

There are merry English games, amusing to all 
ages, that the youngest can join in, and some day I 
should like to tell you of them \ but as " Robin's 
Alive" and "Housekeeping," " Blindman's Buff" 
and "Cat's Cradle " are not yet exhausted, and riddles 
and " Mother Goose " keep their charm, you will find 
enough to make the younger children happy, with a 
judicious supply of Indian, fairy and bear stories, 
with plenty of growling thrown in. Make each one 
tell some story in turn, which will give you a rest. 
They can do it after a fashion, and it will be a good 
exercise for their memory. I meant to tell you the 
rest of the games and occupations laid up for my 
" Littleboy," which is one of the two dozen pet names 
of the six-year-old, whose silver board and rainbow 
wools lie on the Lilliputian table by my side, relics of 
a rainy day's pastime. But, come to think, it would 
take a book to tell them all, and I might want some 
coaxing to tell them between now and next Christ- 
mas. 



XI. 



. MANNERS AWAY FROM HOME. 

O be invited by one's self for an old fashioned 



J- visit, is one's first taste of the world. To have 
the traveling bag packed, and the sandwiches, and the 
lady cake to look genteel, not forgotten, with a maga- 
zine and a shawl strap, duster or ulster, and a satchel 
with a worked canvass cover, a bouquet and a paper 
of caramels, to be put in care of the good-humored 
conductor and whirl off on the train alone, is a 
delicious experience which seems to taste all the 
honey of life in one's mouth at once. On these visits 
one first learns to feel his own responsibility for him- 
self, and there is a great luxury in being on one's 
good behavior with no special calling to account for 




it 



130 



Papers on Children's Etiquette. 131 

It is a safe rule on the cars or in journeying alone 
ever so short distance, not to speak to strangers. A 
girl especially had better be distant to the verge of 
uncivility than fall into the other extreme of making 
acquaintances on short notice, exchanging cards and 
addresses and getting up correspondence with people 
she knows nothing about. The girl who can do 
such things has very little respect for herself. To 
say the least, it looks as if she had not friends 
enough of her own, or only cared for novelty, neither 
case being creditable to her disposition or bringing 
up. 

Bnt there is a loose change of civility one may 
carry on a journey, to spend in making time pleasant 
for one's self and others, and be none the poorer for. 
When an old lady, or one not so old, ventures a civil 
remark, or an old gentleman good-naturedly tries to 
divert himself and vou bv a conversation, it isn't for 
you to draw back and put on offended airs or give up 
to native bashfulness. Remember the privilege that 
has just been put upon you, of being a " citizen of the 
world," and answer to your duty, which is, not to 
show yourself off, or make an impression, but to just 
be pleasant. You will soon learn what people it 
won't do to be sociable with. Strangers who begin 
with a string of questions, "Are you traveling alone ? " 
"How old are you?" "Have you a mother?" or 



132 ( Behaving, or 

"Come from such a place," may be well-meaning 
folks whose only idea of getting up a conversation is 
by asking questions enough for a geography lesson, 
or they may be as undesirable to have anything to do 
with as the wolf that met Red Riding-Hood. It makes 
no difference. You are to answer no questions about 
your business, or destination, from strangers, and well- 
bred ones know better than to ask you. Be very 
civil about your assertion, for it is cruel to hurt the 
feelings of kind ignorant people, who would do better 
if they knew'how, and impertinence is worst punished 
with politeness. When the inquisition opens with 
the stereotvped "How far are vou soinc:?" or the 
blunter "Where are you going?" don't put on the 
airs boarding school girls love to practice as "hau- 
teur," and look as shocked as if you had been asked 
to steal. There is no occasion here for these grand airs 
which will come appropriately, perhaps, three times in 
the course of your whole life. It is enough to say, 
very gently and quietly, "not far," or "some dis- 
tance,' 4 as it may be, then turn around and look 
square away from the questioner, take up a book or 
gaze out of window, and refuse to hear any more 
cross-questionings. If you want to know anything 
about the journey, ask the conductor or porter, or 
appeal to the oldest lady or gentleman in reach- 



Papers on Children's Etiquette. 133 

Don't say " excuse me," for asking a necessary ques- 
tion, which you have a perfect right to put. Don't go 
about the world apologizing for being in it, but keep 
excuses till they are needed. There will be occasion 
enough for them. " Please tell me," or " Will you be 
kind enough to tell me this or that," -is good form. 

I take it for granted you are not one of the lunch- 
eaters, who begin on caramel as soon as the train 
starts, and keep nibbling all the way. Nor are you 
one of the selfish people who take up a whole seat in 
a crowded car with themselves and their parcels, or 
one of those stupid thoughtless ones who allow a 
timid stranger to go looking for a place through a car 
without a motion to give up the vacant one at their 
sides. As for the girls or women who think it clever 
to murmur " this seat is engaged," meaning it is en- 
gaged for their own convenience, they should be put 
in the same class with the girls at dancing school and 
not of it, who are always " engaged " not to do any- 
thing they don't wish to do, and all sent to a country 
by themselves where decent people could never bean- 
* noyed by them. No fair-minded person would ever 
exchange a second word with any girl caught in such 
a trick. 

The child or person- who does not mean to take his 
share of the annoyances and inconveniences of life, 



134 



Behaving, or 



deserves to be served as the bees treat their drones, 
stung to death and cast out of the world. 

If your friends know you are coming they should 
send some one to meet you at the station, and this is 
an attention you must be careful to always show your 
guests. To allow a visitor to find the way to and 
from your house alone, when he has taken the trouble 
to come and see you, says very plainly that you think 
his visit of little account. In the last few miles of 
the journey, make .yourself as neat as possible, which 
is easy to do if you go in a reserved car. Wash the 
dust off, smooth your hair, put on a fresh collar and 
brush and shake your clothes in the dressing-room, 
for you don't want to hurry from your friends to your 
room before you can be fit to be seen. 

When you go on a visit, especially the first time, 
anywhere, have it fixed how long you are going to 
stay, and let no common urging induce you to make 
it longer. Better go away before people have had 
enough of you. It is better to let your friends know 
how long you mean to stay, after you arrive. They 
will want to know how much time they have to plan 
for, whether they can take you separately to see the 
ship-yards and the lower bay, and have a picnic and a 
dance, or whether they must make the most of your 
day or two, and crowd the pleasure. All the same, I 



Papas on ChildreiCs Etiquette. 135 

don't think it sounds well to hear people ask before 
their visitors have spent their first evening with them, 
" How long have you come to stay ? " If such a 
question were put to myself, the answer I should 
want to make would be, " Till the stage can take me 
away by the next train." How much better it sounds 
to hear, " I hope you've come to make us a good 
long visit," or "Now I want to know how much time 
I'm to have with you." That you may never hear 
these words spoken anyway but sincerely, it is a good 
rule never to go anywhere without special invitation, 
certainly never without sending word you are coming. 
Unless very intimate with people, make visits to them 
only when they set a day and time for you to come, 
then you know they want you. There are plenty of 
Delight Sanborns to say sweetly, " Why % don't you 
ever come and see me? Come any time, I shall be 
so glad." When they really don't care whether you 
ever come or not. But when Delight says, "Won't 
you come next Wednesday and stay to tea, and we'll 
go on the lake in the evening," you may be sure you 
are wanted. Or when she writes for you to spend 
Commencement week with her, you will be pretty 
sure to be treated with Delight's very best, for she 
meant that invitation. "Come and see me some- 
time," is a careless invitation, that sounds pleasantly 



136 



Behaving, or 



enough, but isn't very complimentary either to the 
giver or receiver. It means, " I like you well enough, 
and, when everything is just right, and nothing better 
at hand, I shouldn't mind finding you about to 
amuse mejtbut it isn't the least matter." 

Remember, before you get into the agonies of doubt 
that beset even well-bred children as to whether they 
ought to accept the politenesses showered on them 
away from home, this thing or two : 

People who come to see you compliment you by 
liking to be with you, and when they lay aside other 
pleasures and occupations to come when you want 
them, you should feel like giving them all the pleas- 
ure possible in return. The best seat and the choice 
whether to walk or ride, or play, should be offered 
them, and not merely offered, but given, and left for 
them to take. You wish to make everything pleasant 
for them, and it doesn't seem gracious when they run 
against your polite efforts, and won't let you -be as 
kind as you will. Put yourself in the same place 
when you are visitor. Don't make things awkward 
for your entertainers bv refusing the best seat in the 
carriage when there are no very much older ones to 
take it, or by obstinately refusing to say whether you 
prefer to go fishing, or stay at home, or by declining 
a lunch sent to your room with kindest intentions, 



Papers on Children* s Etiquette. 137 

When the choice is offered you in anything, make it. 
It isn't even polite when asked what part of a 
chicken you will have at dinner, to say " anything you 
please,'' or "I'm not particular," which used to be 
thought a genteel speech. You are* to save other 
people the trouble of choosing for you, and say what 
you will have, making some choice, though really not 
particular as you might say. 

When I was young, 1 used to be deeply concerned 
sometimes lest the people I was visiting offered more 
than they really wished accepted. Whether they 
really meant me to have the second slice of fruit- 
cake or mince-pie, whether when they told me to 
open the bookcase and help myself to story books 
they wouldn't prefer the books should go untouched, 
whether they did really not mind if I took a gallop on 
one of the horses, or practised on the piano of a 
morning, were such doubtful points as took away all 
the pleasure of doing what I liked, so that I " snatched 
a fearful joy" in doing anything I liked. And as 
signs of similar sentiments are yet to be found in the 
younger generation, it may reassure some shy bey or 
girl to know that we have no business to think 
\vhethei our friends mean what they sav. We ought 
to take their word for what it is, and not go back of 
it.. If you take no liberties that you're not invited to, 



i3S 



Behaving, or 



you may take as many offered ones as you please, 
and be sure your friends will find it all right. 

There are civilities offered sometimes, which you 
should never accept, and those are the privileges of 
persons much older than yourself. Grandmamma, 
with the politeness and self-denial that comes so 
easily to elder age, after practising it a life-time, will 
offer you her chair by the fire because you are a 
visitor, but you must not think of taking it. It is 
compliment enough to you that she offered it. The 
mother may desire you to keep the easy chair from 
which you rise as she comes in, but you will not 
resume it unless there is a better one for her in the 
room. Nor will you keep the newspaper for the first 
reading when the father waves it back to you. At a 
crowded reception in Philadelphia, years ago, the 
elegant Mrs. Blodgett, still celebrated for her beauty, 
insisted on giving up her seat out of compliment to a 
young stranger just presented to her. Her courtesy, 
though cool, always meant something, and the offer 
was repeated in such a way that it seemed a rudeness 
to refuse. But it was a comfort to hear Doctor John 
Wardour, the delightful savant and finished gentle- 
man, say with decision as he walked away, "That 
was right. You could not have taken her seat with 
any degree of politeness," though he had been watch- 



Papers on Children's Etiquette. 139 



ing the little strife cf compliment without change of 
a muscle to help a novice out of a dilemma. Lessons 
by such teachers never lose their stamp. 

In return for the attentions your friends show you 
while visiting, you will be careful not to put them out 
by habits and hours different from theirs. When you 
go to bed, ask what* time you shall get up, and what 
is the breakfast hour, and let anybody else keep the 
table waiting, but not you. Dress neatly but quickly, 
and learn to get ready for a drive or walk in the . 
briefest time. How Lucy used to try my patience 
when she came to stay all night with me ! Hours in 
a boarding-house are fixed, and the breakfast bell 
would ring, and breakfast time go by, with that child 
dawdling over her shoe-strings, stopping to talk with 
her hands clasped round her knees, engaging in a 
pillow fight or two, and braiding her long hair lei- 
surely, while the chambermaid knocked with, " Mrs. 
Putney says it's a quarter to nine, and are ye not 
coming down for breakfast," till finally by taking 
matters in hand myself, we crept down to cold coffee 
and gristly steak, with the forenoon spoiled. I used 
to vow regularly that I never would ask Lucy to 
come and see me again, but though I love her and 
invited her still, as your friends do you, it isn't worth 
while to try them with such small negligences. 



140 Behaving, or 

If there are servants in the house, enough to do 
the work, you will not think of helping, though you 
will ask as little waiting on as possible, for they often 
resent having to work for visitors, and you don't want 
to make your friends trouble with them. But when 
there is only one servant or none, it surely is your 
place not only to offer help, but to give it. There is 
all the difference in the world between offering help 
and meaning to help. You will see a handsomely 
dressed girl, on a visit, sitting about with her fancy 
work while her friends are busy taking care of their 
rooms, getting nice little dinners and teas, perhaps 
ironing her ruffles and collars, while she contents her- 
self with a languid "Aunt, can't I help you some- 
how ? " or a sweetly uttered, " I do wish you would let 
me do something," while she accepts the polite 
objections without noticing or minding how much her 
presence adds to the daily cares of the house. You 
will always enjoy your visits more for joining your 
friends in their work as well as their fun. The least 
you can do is always to take care of your own room, if 
you know how. Be careful of the pretty room that 
may be given you, taking care not to splash the 
handsome toilet mats, or carpet, when you wash your 
face, nor throwing your dark or dusty clothes on the 
spotless Marseilles coverlet, or stepping on the white 



Papers on Children's Etiquette. 141 



wool mat at the bedside with soiled shoes or stock- 
ings. A bedroom is no place for soiled and dusty 
things, anyhow. If you come home from ,a tramp, 
dusty and stained, don't carry yourself right into the 
sweet fair chamber, to leave marks of soil and dis- 
order that will last after you are gone. Shake the 
dust off on the grass plot or piazza before you go in 
the house. If you are caught in the rain, leave the 
mud at the door, and see that your waterproof and 
umbrella are put to dry where they will not drip on 
anything that can be hurt. I mention these things,, 
not so much because you don't know them, as to put 
you in mind of what you do know. So you will not 
set a glass of water on a polished table where it will 
stain the wood or marble, nor eat cake over a book 
and drop crumbs in it, nor cut paper or strew odds and 
ends over table and floor when you work, but learn 
t© spread a newspaper to catch clippings, and keep 
threads in a little pile to be swept off when through 
with sewing. Of course, your friends love you well 
enough to put up with such things, but it isn't really 
nice to be always crossing their neat ways with care- 
lessness that you never ought to allow yourself any- 
where. It is part of a man's or a woman's business 
— I don't say gentleman's or lady's, for it belongs to 
everybody — to know how to do things the best way, 



142 



Behaving, or 



and to learn so well that doing right becomes natural 
and the only way. It is a great deal easier to be 
nice than to be careless if you only knew it. You 
would learn it very quickly if you had to undo your 
carelessness every time. 

Before you leave your room in the morning see 
that the hat, dress, and shoes that you may need 
through the day are in order, no button wanting, no 
ruffle unbasted, that will keep you waiting when you 
want to walkj and get your fancy work read}', if you 
need it. Turn the bedclothes down to* the foot of the 
bed, and open the window to air the room, leave your 
hair brush and comb clean, and hang up your clothes 
or fold them in the drawers. School girls especially 
have a fashion of leaving their wardrobe in review of 
all the chairs in a room, that isn't good for the 
clothes or the looks of things. If you feel stupid in 
the morning, try a little exercise before you go down, 
to waken yourself up. Swing your arms and rub 
your skin till it is warm and the circulation brisk. It 
makes the morning so much pleasanter to have peo- 
ple come in feeling bright and comfortable and good 
humored. If you don't feel very well, say nothing 
about it, for the feeling may pass away of itself, and 
you don't want to press your little aches and miseries 
upon the notice of other people. Say good morning 



Papers on Children' s Etiquette. 143 



to every body in the room, when you present 3 r our- 
self, and it, is polite, after the usual inquiries if you 
slept well which the hostess will make, for you to say, 
"I hope you are feeling well,*' or some little thing 
that shows you care whether your friends are happy 
or not. 

When you are in a house, you are to do very much 
as the hostess desires you. Sit in the chair she 
points out, go in the parlor and see her callers if she 
asks you, and not unless she does, and if she wants 
to know if you would like to drive, or walk in the gar- 
den, or take a book in the parlor a while this morning, 
take the hint that she wants to be alone a while. 
She may have some work that she can do better 
without a guest to entertain for the hour. If your 
friends must be busy, contrive to help them or to 
amuse yourself a while. If you can see help is 
needed, do what you can. Don't offer to take the 
baby, but put your arms out and clasp him, or if there 
is an errand to be done, rise to get your hat while 
you offer, make some motion that shows you are in 
earnest, and you will very soon know whether your 
aid is acceptable or not, Whether you can help or 
not, you ought to make yourself agreeable as the 
least return for the hospitality shown you. To spend 
hours reading, when your friends are waking to talk 



144 



Behaving, or 



with you, or to be moping and dull, is treating them 
very badly, as if you came to their house only to 
amuse yourself and did not care at all about seeing 
them. 

If you have friends* in town whom the family you 
are staying with do not know, you may call upon 
them, but it is polite to ask one of your friends- to go 
with you. If calls should be made on you, always 
ask the friends you are with to share them. It is not 
showing a lady respect to have strangers coming and 
going in her house and using her parlors, without at 
least asking her to take part of the pleasure of their 
company. Girls are not always careful about these 
things. You have no right to ask friends to come 
and spend the day with you or to stay to tea, or pass 
the evening with you when you are visiting. It is 
kind in your hostess to give you leave to do so, and 
you may properly accept it. You should not make 
long visits away from her house, unless one of the 
family is with you, or it will look as if you made her 
house a convenience, to eat and sleep at, while you 
took your pleasure somewhere else. When friends 
come to see you by permission, see that they do not 
stay too long, or make themselves troublesome — you 
are responsible for their behavior as they are your 
company, not that of the house. Two girls*playing 



Papers on Children's.. Etiquette. 145 

noisy galops and duets on the piano so as to be heard 
all over the house, or calling at inconvenient hours, 
may make themselves real nuisances in a family. 

If there is a coolness between two of your friends 
you should never visit one while staying with the 
other, for it is not kind to disregard the feelings of 
your hostess. Avoid mentioning the names of people 
your friends are not on good terms with. I know 
that this is very different from the habits which 
many girls think clever, of piquing a friend by re- 
peating in her hearing all the compliments they hear 
paid anyone she particularly dislikes. It is human 
not to enjoy hearing our enemies praised, and the 
nature mean enough to give such pin-pricks is coarse 
as the Bridget who blackguards a girl with a worse 
bonnet than her own. Anybody can be stupid 
enough to be malicious, few are wise enough to be 
completely kind." 

In the matter of allowing friends to pay little ex- 
penses for you, always have your car or stage fare 
ready, and in your hand when the conductor comes 
round, but if your friends insist on paying for you let 
them, and don't make too much of trifles. For a day 
or two at first, you may allow these little attentions, 
but as it is not nice to be under the slightest money 
obligation to anybody, you should insist on paying 



146 Behaving, or 

your own fares afterward, and take the first chance to 
return the civility by paying for the whole party. 
You may accept invitations to visit theatres and 
picture galleries, and it would be out of place to offer 
to pay for your own tickets, but you will take care to 
return attentions in some way that shows good feel- 
ing, it may be by a present, not so costly as tasteful, 
. the set of toilet mats or the lace cushion you have 
been working during your stay, a flowering plant, or 
some nicely done piece of sewing, or a picture frame. 
I don't mean that you are to keep account of the 
favors shown you in a dollar-and-cent way, as ^ome 
girls are mean enough to do, but always meet kind- 
ness with kindness as far as you are able. Your 
hostess may be able to give you the advantages of a 
visit in the city with all sorts of gaieties and enter- 
tainments, and you may have nothing of the sort to 
offer, but you can invite her heartily to your home 
and village fun, and you can send her some token of 
your handiwork, that will take its value from the lov- 
ing thoughts and fancies wrought into it, and she will 
prize it as such. If the servants have taken trouble to 
make your visit pleasant, remember them by a little 
present, a needle-book and box of thread, a neck-tie or 
trinket, useful, as well as pretty, and they will think 
more of it, if given with your own hand and a word 



Papers on Children's Etiquette. 147 

of thanks. Give your hostess full thanks for all the 
pleasure you have had in your visit, in taking leave, 
and write to her within a week after you get home, 
and say something to make her feel that she suc- 
ceeded in giving you pleasure, and that you remem- 
ber her cordially. If it wasn't the best time you ever 
had in your life, if she tried to make it pleasant, that 
is something to be grateful for. 

Whatever you may have seen or heard while visit- 
ing at a house, you are in honor bound never to men- 
tion it to the disadvantage of the family you have 
been with. 

The thoughtlessness of young people on this point 
has made more mischief than they could ever undo. 
It is amusing to hear a clever girl take off the pecu- 
liarities of others, and she can doubtless make a circle 
"nearly die with laughing" at her accounts of how 
things went on where she w T as staying. She does not 
know that she violates the oldest law of courtesy in 
the world, and that her manners are lower than an 
Indian's in. doing so. Even servant girls of the better 
class think too much of themselves to " carry tales," 
and I have been surprised at the honor and reserve 
they showed in keeping their employer's affairs private, 
when there was every temptation for them to gossip. ' 
It is a rare virtue, but not a lost one. A young lady 



148 



Behaving. 



should have good feeling enough to keep her from 
ever lisping a syllable to the discredit of those under 
whose roof she has been, and at whose table she has 
eaten ; she may ridicule them, but she discredits her- 
self more. Don't permit yourself the impertinence of 
" talking over " people. You have not seen enough 
of the world yet to know that others may have very 
different ways of living, from those you are used to, 
and not be open to criticism. There are very, very 
few families with whom one can live, and not find 
plenty to satirize, and how do you know that yours is 
one of the number? There is nothing so open to 
caricature as the assumption of people who imagine 
themselves and their set always in the right, and 
those who laugh with you over your friends, will 
probably laugh at you in your turn, behind your 
back. Your friends may have hash for dinner and 
pie for breakfast, they may "gush;" and have affecta- 
tions, but you had better do all four, than be guilty 
of the unkindness, the vulgarity, the crime of repeat- 
ing it. Anyone who does so is as mean as one who 
listens at a keyhole, or breaks open another person's 
letter. 



LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 




012 735 369 4 



